#so either there's a spare bed in the bakery

[pharawee]

—BAKE ME PLEASE · Episode 3

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[writingoddess1125]

Could you spare some moments of Shanks and Viv’s mother? Please. I’m begging for some crumbs, they are criminally underrated!!

Sure!

One Sided

Shanks x Fem Reader

<<< Old Man Series

What was suppose to only be a fling on your end.

You had been a baker for your whole life, your parents being bakers and your parents parents being bakers. You'd had wanted adventure, something rebellious- Yet you had found something different...

"I think I'm in love with you (Y/N)" He whispered in your ear. Your eyes widening at hearing this as you stared at him shocked, it was too sudden and it felt like his words had swept you under the tides all the sudden.

At the bar that night, a Captian with bright red hair cause your wondering eye. He had said he'd only be there for a short while, buying you drinks and flirting with you. It seemed like the perfect adventure to you, especially when the two of you went back to his ship together.

By morning, you slipping away from his bed before he could wake up. The adrenaline long gone and a comforble sorness between your legs was all that had been left-

You'd didn't expect him to come into your bakery the following day, with flowers in hand and asking you for a date. Shanks cheeks as red as his hair as he shuffeles before you like a school boy wanting his first kiss.

How could you refuse?

The next few weeks started a falling romance, a whirlpool of feelings that you seemed to have a hard time catching up to.

You could see he was falling hard for you, while you fell into confusion. Every night for those weeks you laid in bed together, you unsure if it was lust or the starting of love bringing you there.

"I have to leave tomorrow morning... I have a journey to make" Shanks said softly, laying next to you in your bed. You looking to him surprised.

Part of you was relived- while the other part was hurt?

"For how long?-

"I don't know.. But I want you to see me off tommorow.. If you want, you can even come with me" He said softly, playing with your hair.

You could see his eyes shimmering with affection and a desire for you to be there, so you cuddled against him and nodded.

"I'll be there to see you off.." You whispered, that sentence being enough for Shanks to know the silent rejection of you coming with him.

By morning, you had made the two of you breakfast in your tiny kitchen. It felt far too domestic to go unnoticed by either of you-

After breakfast the two of you walking together to the docks, silence following the both of you like a heavy blanket. Unsure of what was to come next-

Once to the docks, he turned to face you- Looking over your face as you cleaned into his gentle touch, Shanks leaning into place soft kisses on your cheeks and pulling you flushed against him like he had done ever night and every morning.

"I-I.." You couldn't speak, your cheeks feeling blushed at this point. He chuckled a bit sadly and lowered his head, clearly a bit embarrassed at himself for his own sudden words.

"Don't force yourself Love" He said calmly, rubbing your cheek with his thumb gently in affection. Guilt now hitting your chest a bit, unsure of what else to say as you bowed your head also embarrassed.

"I'm sorry" You whisper, earning a chuckle from Shanks.

"Don't be- Never apologize for how you feel..."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you it was almost awkward- almost. You looking up and just greatful for his kind words.

"Be safe- You hear me?" You say softly. This earning a chuckle from the man.

"Of course and I'll come back for you- And ill make sure to hear those words from you one day" Shanks said with a bright smile, pressing a kiss to your lips as he stepped away from you and onto his ship.

You wave to him, watching him as he conducted the crew to set sail. He stared down at you, His red hair haloing around him as the winds picked up.

"I'll see you again (Y/N)! Don't forget!" He called out, You of course smiling and nodding.

"I wont!"

With that the ship pulled away from the tiny dock of your village, sailing away from you. An unfamiliar pain hitting your chest as you watched Shanks sail away from you, a burn of tears hitting your eyes you didn't expect.

Standing on the dock as you watch his ship go over the horizon. Touching your chest, right above your heart where it ached the most.

"I think I love you too.."

[cazzyf1]

Some facts and stories about Roland Ratzenberger

• When he was seven years old his grandmother took him to a local hill climb race at Gaisberg.

• His first word was 'car'

• He was nine years old when year the family home the Salzburg ring opened. He was get through the gates to go watch the cars drive.

• He had a poster of Jochen Rindt on his wall as a kid.

• When he started karting at sixteen years old he had to get a secondary job at a bakery to fund it.

• In the winter of 1991 he married the former partner of another driver, becoming the stepfather of her son, however they were divorced in early 1992.

• While in the UK, he briefly gained some fame for having a similar name to the TV puppet 'Roland Rat'. ITV invited film to film a segment with the puppet for national breakfast television. He raced against the rat (who was in a car dubbed 'Ratmobile') the Rat Puppet ended up winning the race down to cheating.

• F1 author David Tremayne son's who was three years old insisted on calling Roland Ratzenburg-and-chips-and-beans to his face. Roland found it hilarious and became that young boy's hero.

• Described as 'gentle, always unfailingly polite, tall, good-looking, and with a ready smile'

• Journalist Adam Cooper went out drinking with Roland in Japan and at the end of the night they had decided he should come stay in Japan for a year or two to cover the local racing scene. When he turned up and realised the hotel was more expensive than he had planned Roland let him stay in the spare twin bed he had in his room. He was happy to have company.

• One of his unusual goals was to try to enjoy female company in the team motorhome between stints in 24 hour races. Adam Cooper reccounts ' I think the last time we discussed it he’d managed the feat twice at Le Mans, and once at the Nurburgring.'

• One time he used his deep Austrain accent to record a Terminator style 'I'll be back' answer machine message for rival Jeff Krosnoff

• He kept a black book full of 'ladies' numbers

• One time his friend Anthony Reid had an accident in a F3000 race, and had a lot of blood streaming down his face. Roland had to take charge of the scene as the marshals freaked out. He made sure his journalist friend wrote about the shortcomings of safety in a Japanese magazine afterwards.

• At a Formula Ford festival his team either ran out of funds or walked out and Roland was left with just his car and a toolbox. Because he was so well liked mechanics and personnel from other teams helped him prepare his car. He won that festival.

• On one occasion, Heinz-Harald Frentzen and Ratzenberger entered a nightclub. There was a confrontation between Frentzen and another guy which saw a knife pulled on either Frentzen or a random female bystander. Either way, Ratzenberger selflessly stepped in and wrestled the knife away from the man. 

• A documentary has been put out on YouTube about Roland by Levay film production, detailing all about his life. A recommended watch.

• Bernie Ecclestone personally delivered the confirmation of Ratzenburg's death to the Simtek team

• Ayton Senna commandeered an offical car to hurry to the medical center where he learnt of Roland's fate from his friend, Dr Sid Watkins

• Only five drivers attended his funeral

[sashaisready]

Chapter Twenty-Three - Hell if I know

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

Warning: PTSD/trauma response, Steve being cute

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 24

Series Masterlist

Thank-you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged and commented on this series! It means so much and I love hearing your thoughts!! Just two parts left now - to be posted tomorrow (13th Dec).

You had finally peeled yourself out of bed so Bucky could debrief his men after the events of last night. He’d shown you the ensuite bathroom and laid out some spare clothes so you didn’t need to put last night’s back on (you’d asked him to throw them out). He told you firmly to come downstairs and have some breakfast when you were ready. Not that you were particularly hungry, but after you’d protested he had shot you a warning look and you’d buckled – not wanting to put a dampener on the mood after your morning together.

It was easily the best shower of your life. Bucky’s guest bathroom was impressive, a huge walk in waterfall shower amongst brand new fittings and slate grey tiles. There were array of fancy toiletries on the shelf, each stylish bottle probably the same price as your monthly electric bill.

The water pressure was intense, you closed your eyes and allowed the hot water to wash everything away. You took your time washing your hair, taking care to scrub every inch of yourself and wipe away every trace of HYDRA and that night. Every speck of dust, blood, sweat.

You lost track of time as you enjoyed the feeling of the warm water on your skin. After washing your hair you took a moment to lean against the tiles, which proved to be a mistake.

You weren’t sure if it was the feel of the hard surface on your back but suddenly you were transported back to the attic in the warehouse, folding yourself into the corner and holding tight against the wall as you hid and waited in the dark. Your breaths became short and laboured as the room started to spin. The steam from the shower, once comforting and soothing, suddenly seemed stifling and threatening. Fear coursed through you as you were struck by the idea that there was someone in the bathroom with you, hiding within the steam, waiting for you, even though you knew the door was locked from the inside.

You were bent over double as you finally began to push through it. Eventually you managed to regulate your breathing and calm down, switching the water off and wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel as you cautiously moved to the door. Nobody there, of course, nobody in the bedroom either. You exhaled, taking a second to adjust. You had a feeling that wasn’t going to be a one off.

The bathroom was also generously stocked with toiletries - everything a guest might need including new toothbrushes and hair products. After making use of the deodorant and toothpaste you pulled on the clothes Bucky had left for you, navy blue sweat pants, a t-shirt and a large hoody - a pair of boxers too. Everything was too big for you but they were comfy, and they smelled like him too.

You gingerly left the room with your wet hair and borrowed clothing. No Scott guarding outside any more, the house seemed quiet. You crept down the stairs, once again in awe of Bucky’s home. You couldn’t believe anyone in New York had this much space, your shoebox apartment could fit in this floor alone several times over. Everything was modern and looked brand new, pristine white walls and immaculate floors. He must have a cleaning team working round the clock.

You didn’t see anyone as you went down the stairs, crossed the hall and made your way into the intimidatingly enormous kitchen. Nobody there either, just every food gadget you could ever imagine and a table big enough to host a small army. But you supposed that made sense, there seemed to be dozens of people here at any one time. You fantasised about baking there, using the state of the art food mixer and spreading everything out across the many surfaces - a world away from your tiny kitchen at home, where you huddled everything onto your meagre counter with your well-trodden mixer running on nothing but sheer force of will at this point.

You fought your way through the seemingly hundreds of cabinets to finally retrieve a cup and then moved on to trying to figure out the coffee machine. Unfortunately you seemed to need an engineering degree to work it, so hadn’t got very far when you heard someone come into the kitchen behind you.

“She’s awake! How are you today, cupcake?” A cheerful voice called out.

You whipped around to find Steve walking towards you, grinning. He was wearing a slick grey suit, looking every inch the part of second in command.

“Cupcake…? Oh, ‘cos I’m a baker…yeah I get it. Clever” you giggled, rolling your eyes.

“I’m not just a pretty face”. He shot you a wink as he moved to the coffee machine and started pressing buttons .

“She’s got a bit of a knack to her, just need to show her who’s boss and-“

The machine whirred to life and he turned to give you a satisfied smile.

“Thank you, Steve” you beamed back at him. “Where’s Bucky?”

“A little caught up - he’ll be back later. Sorry to say you’re stuck with me for now. So, what we having?”

He takes off his jacket and rolls up his shirt sleeves. You blink at him for a moment before you realise he’s offering to make you breakfast.

“Steve…you don’t have to babysit me. I can make my own eggs” you chuckle.

“Eggs it is…”. He retrieves a carton from the fridge. “So how we doing this? Fried? Boiled? Scrambled? I can even poach if that’s what you’re into…”

“It’s fine…I can do it” you lightly scold him.

“Mmm sorry but I’m under strict orders here. So drink your coffee and tell me what how you like them before I pick for you” he says sternly.

“Fine. Scrambled, please. On toast” you sigh in defeat.

You feel uncomfortable being doted on like this. You’re very independent and used to taking care of yourself. This isn't you.

“Perfect. Let’s go” Steve replied, pulling out a pan and moving to the stove while he grabbed a loaf of sourdough.

“So is this how it all goes down every time?” You tease. “You distract the girls with breakfast the morning after, while Bucky makes a quick exit?”

Steve turns to you and grins. “This is the first time, actually”.

“Bullshit”.

“It is! Would you believe me if I told you most girls don’t even make it to breakfast?” He tells you wickedly.

“Wow, charming” you scoff.

“Well, Bucky knows you’ve had a rough night and asked me to take care of you” he admits earnestly. “You certainly keep him on his toes, cupcake”.

You blush at that, averting your eyes as you clutch your cup. You sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes as Steve hums and cooks. The toast pops up, Steve plates up your meal and brings it over as you take a seat at the kitchen island.

“Thank you, Steve. This is very sweet of you”.

“Don’t thank me yet” he shoots back, waving a spatula warningly as he puts the pan in the sink. “I’m a bit rusty in the kitchen. This isn’t one of my usual duties…”

You laugh and take a bite, humming with happiness as you chew.

“Good, huh?”

“I mean it’s possibly because I haven’t eaten in like…seventeen hours? But yeah it’s really good, thank you”. You smile at him.

And you are grateful. As much as you don’t like people fussing over you, you can’t deny it’s nice to be cared for - particularly after the last twenty four hours. And you’re touched that Bucky is looking after you even when he’s not there.

“Oh almost forgot….” Steve leans over to where he put his jacket and reaches into the pocket. “We salvaged this for you. Case is a bit cracked but the screen seems okay”.

He throws you over your phone and you catch it, thanking him. You unlock the screen and see a few messages. One from Wanda asking how your date went, another from Peter saying he enjoyed hanging out and you should do it again sometime (platonically of course). You reply to Peter with some non-committal enthusiasm and tell Wanda you’ll call her later as you have lots to tell her. It feels strange that their world is just carrying on as usual around you, while yours had changed forever in a matter of hours. Pepper also let you know she’d offered the Assistant job to the top candidate and was waiting to hear back.

You see the texts HYDRA sent on your behalf and the reply from Bucky and hastily delete them before you can fully react to them, wishing you could remove your memories just as easily.

“So you and Buck…” Steve questioned warily.

“Me and Buck what…?” you ask as if you don’t know what he’s implying.

“What’s your deal? Are you actually together now?”

You shrug animatedly as you eat your breakfast. “You probably know more than I do…”

And that’s the truth. You have no idea what is going on with you two as you hadn’t discussed it. Yes, he gallantly came to your rescue (although he was somewhat morally obligated as he was the reason you needed saving…) and yes you’d slept together again…but nothing had been explicitly said between you. From your perspective…you felt like something had shifted between you now. You knew in your heart wanted to be with Bucky. Really wanted to be with him. Despite his flaws, despite everything that had happened. You were still cautious but nonetheless drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to stay away. It was hard to imagine your life without him now.

Steve laughs and shoots you a ‘Hell if I know…’ look.

“Steve…” you ask cautiously as your fork plays with the last of your toast. “What did you mean when you said I keep Bucky on his toes?”

He chuckles. “C’mon cupcake, you know exactly what I meant”.

The two of you stare at one another for a moment and you feel yourself flush as you finish your final bites. Steve picks up your empty plate and takes it to the dishwasher.

“All I’m saying is he’s got it bad” Steve continues as he cleans up. “There’s a reason I’m standing here cooking for you”.

You nod, finishing your coffee as his words sink in.

[iluvmorales]

hii, can i request reader x miles 1026 where it's the reader's birthday, and he does small affectionate things to celebrate her? it's actually my birthday, so this prompt would be perfect. thank youuu✨️🙏🏼

happy birthday! I hope whatever age you turn treats you well:)

First of all, miles has been preparing for your birthday a week in advance. He knows you don’t like anything too big, so he keeps it lowkey.

You closed the apartment door, sliding the lock before turning to the living room; “I’m home!” You yelled out, to see if either of your parents were home, to which you got no reply. You shrugged it off before heading to your bedroom, upon opening the door you saw miles, sneaking into your window in his spiderman suit. “Miles!” Yo yelled happily, running towards him. You saw his suits eyes grow as he held his arms out to you, hugging you tightly. “Happy birthday,I came here to give you your gifts” he took off his mask, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You let him go,sitting on the edge of your bed excitedly. It wasn’t the gifts that made you excited, but seeing miles for the first time today. “Here” he handed you a small gift bag with a note that read please open when I’m not around:).

Miles spent time with you for the rest of that day, a walk around Brooklyn, taking you to a park where he bought you your favorite drink from the nearby cafe

“Can I get the (your choice of drink), and a hot chocolate please” miles’ sweet voice called out, as he looked up at the menu while ordering before sparing the cashier a glance, sliding her the money. “You know my favorite drink?” You asked with a smile, already knowing the answer you were about to receive. “Of course I do- what! Your my girlfriend” miles replied, baffled that you’d question his knowledge on his girl.

Next stop was the bakery.

“Miles really?” You looked at him with a deadpanned expression, watching as he held the door to a building with a huge neon sign that read bakery. “I have a little surprise for you” he smiled, ushering you inside before he went to the register and brought back a small little box. He opened it, showing you the cup cake with your (favorite flavors). On top was a little singular candle; “one wish, one candle right?” Miles laughed, smiling at you brightly. You just nodded and smiled at him before you both continued your walk back home.

It had gotten dark exceptionally quickly, and miles’ curfew was at 10 so he had to speed things up. So here you sat, back in your room with miles as he lit the candle.

“Happy birthday to you!” He sang the song, not too loudly but with enough energy to makeup for the people you were missing. After he was done and you blew out the candle, his finger dipped into the frosting before wiping it onto your nose. “Miles!” You yelled, laughing as the cold sweet paste touched your skin. He laughed, but it quickly pauses when you pulled him by his hoodie strings. “It’s almost 10, thank you for today” you smiled at him as his hands made their way to hold your cheeks, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Of course babe, text me how you like your gift.” He said, before placing another kiss on your head.

“See you!” You yelled as he slid open the window, now back in his spider suit. He turned and yelled a last happy birthday before swinging away.

Now it was the gift, you sat there for another hour deciding if you should open it now or not, but you didn’t know that miles was still up waiting for your text.

You opened the bag, inside was a small booklet and even smaller box with a brand name etched. You smiled to yourself as you went through the booklet. It was sketches of you from all the times you and him went on a date, with those pretty bold colors he’d use for his graffiti. You both had been with eachother so much he could make a mini sketchbook, and he remembered the details of each time. You placed the book down after going through it, laughing at all the memories with miles. You opened the smaller box, inside was a necklace with your initials plus M. Both initials were encapsulated by a small heart. Your own heart melted at the sight of the jewelry. You had been talking about getting it for the both of you since you saw it. You instantly texted miles and it went something like this;

Miles!

I love the gifts thank you!

The necklace??? Please tell me you got us matching ones

Duh!

*insert pic of miles showing off the necklace*

Ahhhhh ilysm

thank you sm for today miles

ofc

I’m glad I could give you a good birthday

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello I’m the one who requested a fic for Xavier (p.s I loved it) maybe you could do the same thing but for Wednesday and/or Enid

“Enid, get your had o it the batter!” You scolded the blonde as you lightly slapped her hand out of the batter. “I’m sorry! Your baking is just so good!” She whines, licking off the batter she did manage to scoop out from the bowl, “so good.” She whispered under her breath. “It’s not even done yet!” You exclaimed, pulling away the bowl so she wouldn’t be tempted for another helping of salmonella.

Originally the plan was that you were going to bake a batch of sugar cookies then some lemon butterfly cakes, iced star cookies after that before finishing off with some almond and raspberry jelly drops or s’mores depending on which you were feeling at the time. However Enid insisted that she’d lend a helping hand but that ‘helping hand’ was too preoccupied by dipping itself into the batter more times the you could count.

“So? The batter is always the best part.” Enid counters as though she was speaking a proven fact. “Then don’t come crying to me when your sick in bed from your over indulgence.” You retorted, pinching her cheeks lightly; Looking over the book you had prepped up and began to read the following steps when Enid runs a cold blob of batter down your cheek.

You pause your reading to look at her as she chuckled behind her hand, eyes crinkling in the corners from how wide she was smiling it warmed your heart and forged a playful fire within your soul. You smirk as you dip your finger into the batter, taking advantage of her lack of self awareness to leave a streak of batter across her forehead, causing Enid to gasp. “You didn’t!”

“I did.” You smirked like the shithead you were and before you could blink, Enid had sent a cloud of flour into your hair, powdering it in white. “You better be up to finishing what you start kitten because you just stared a war.” You told her as you sprinkled some edible toppings into the tresses of her blonde hair. Funnily enough her blonde hair looked like the iced topping of a cupcake from where you stood. “I was born ready.” Enid rebutted, already holding a couple of eggs in her hand.

Wednesday didn’t have a sweet tooth per-say so when you were flipping through your big book of bakery one day, you came across all sorts of treats that immediately brought Wednesday to mind; Apple strudel with cider sauce, rhubarb, ginger and raisin muffins, dark chocolate blueberry tarts, Halloween spiderweb cookies and rich ginger brownies.

Wednesday wasn’t as overall enthusiastic about sweet treats like Enid was but that didn’t mean she despised them all together. She just had a different choice in what she’d like to go into them, that’s all. With your mind made up, you immediately went down to the kitchens and got started on baking the first recipe on your list.

Wednesday was curious when you didn’t meet her at her dorm like usual whenever you had spare time on your hands. She wasn’t worried either as she knew very well of your penchant for baking; So it didn’t take long for the Addams to deduce where you’d might be in this current moment and time and sighed. Wednesday found your impulse to bake very endearing but you had a tendency to over bake which then leads to you struggling to carry up your finished products without accidents to occur.

That plus the fact that you had left your tuppaware boxes and bag in her dorm from the last time you came to hang out with herself and Enid. “That fool.” She utters fondly, seeing as she now has a reason to go see you, Wednesday picks up the tuppaware and puts them into the bag and heads down to the kitchen where you had just placed some rich ginger brownies on the cooking rack. “Are those for me?” Her voice took you off guard as you almost flung a oven mitt before realising it was her, you took a deep breath as you placed the mitts on the side.

“Jesus Wednesday, you scared me you flat footed harbinger of darkness!” You swore you could see a small smile on her lips that left as soon as it came. “You forgot these.” She said blandly, holding out the plain carrier bag with Xavier’s cute little doodles across it with the tops of the tuppaware boxes just slightly visible. “Your a life saver Wednesday.” You sighed, crossing the kitchen to take the bag; Only for her to pull the bag away from you with a mischievous glint in her eye which made you confused.

“I’ll give you this, only if you allow me to stay and have the first bite of your ginger brownies.” You made a face as though you were heavily in thought which then quickly turned into that of a happy expression as you reached out to grab the bag. “I accept your deal miss Addams, your throne awaits.” You said almost as exaggeratedly as your bow, causing her to scoff, before taking her hand in your free one and helping her sit upon the counter; From where she studied you like a hawk as you continued to bake.

[senashenta]

What Foxes Like

Title: What Foxes Like

Pairing: Sterek

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Summary: Stiles and Derek have been in a relationship for over a year and still none of their friends know about it. Because reasons.

Notes: Written for Poe, originally. This is actually the sequel to a fic I haven't finished yet. I fail. I tried to make sure it made sense anyway. Also, surprise Steve Rogers and Jaskier Pankratz cameos! (I just spoiled the surprise.) You can also read it HERE on AO3.

WHAT FOXES LIKE By Senashenta

“they take their shots, but we're bulletproof I know places (Hide) and you know for me, it's always you I know places (I) in the dead of night, your eyes so green I know places (Hide) and I know for you, it's always me I know places” - I Know Places by Taylor Swift

Derek had moved in with him several months ago and there were logistical problems right from day one. Not that Stiles didn’t love having him there, but the apartment was very small, probably too small to be hiding a wanted fugitive, and whenever he had people over Derek had to hide away in the bedroom for fear of being seen.

Their friends wouldn’t turn Derek in, of course, but they hadn’t been exactly… open. About their relationship, up until this point. They had been together for almost two years and still no one knew about it.

It wasn’t like Stiles to keep secrets, especially from Scott, and in general he was terrible at it anyway. But it was really hard to tell your best friend you were in a steady, loving relationship with the man of your dreams when he was still pining for the girl he had tragically lost a handful of years before.

Besides which, the fox in Stiles privately liked that he had something special to keep to himself, no matter how inconvenient it was in reality. It was the part of himself that urged him to squirrel things away for himself, to keep all the precious things in his life close and safe. He was still getting used to those instincts, even years after the Nogitsune had left him with a bit of fox behind (okay a lot of fox behind.)

But also… there was a little bit of fear there, raw and animalistic, at the thought of being discovered. Something that he couldn’t explain or really even understand, but which was there nonetheless, and it was stupid . God, even Jackson was out! But Stiles had never actually told anyone he was bisexual before (aside from Derek, obviously) and the thought just… yeah. Yikes.

On top of that, his last relationship had been with Lydia, and after that had ended (badly), he just kind of… guarded his heart. What he had with Derek was good and going public was a risk he just wasn’t sure he was ready to take.

“You’re doing that thing where you stare at the ceiling like it’s got all the answers of the universe again.”

“Huh?” Stiles blinked out of his thoughts and turned his head to look at Derek, who was seated cross-legged next to him on the bed, hunched over his laptop, illuminated by the screen, working on either his newest article or his book. 

For obvious reasons Derek couldn’t hold down a regular job, so he wrote articles for publication online and was working on a novel in his spare time, all under the pseudonym “Tyler Shaw”, since he couldn’t use his real name. It didn’t bring much money in, but between that and Stiles’ job at the bakery cafe they managed to scrape by. (The FBI Academy? Well that… just hadn’t been a “good fit”, as his Dad liked to say. Apparently it was frowned upon for trainees to be as… insubordinate as he tended to be. The upshot of going , though, even if just for two semesters, was that he had met some of the most interesting people, a few of which Stiles figured he would be friends with for life.)

“Still staring, but now at me. And we both know I don’t have all the answers of the universe.”

“I– sorry.” Stiles shook his head, “just thinking.”

Derek grinned. “That’s always trouble.”

Stiles shot him a look with a frown, “not always .” (But often, definitely often.) “I was just thinking ,” he continued, ignoring the amused look in Derek’s eyes, “that I might invite Steve and Jaskier to come visit sometime soon. Just for a few days… I mean, if they can sneak away from the Academy for that long.”

“Mmhm.” Derek rumbled, and set his computer aside to ease himself up against Stiles’ side, one hand coming to rest against the younger man’s sternum, just feeling the rise and fall of his breath. “And where are we going to put them? This place is barely big enough for the two of us, never mind four .”

“They can sleep on the couch, it pulls out!” Stiles groused, “and besides, Jaskier has no concept of personal space.” Though he supposed Steve did , in all fairness. “Look,” a touch frustrated, he frowned up at Derek where he was leaning over him, “I know your werewolf possessiveness would love for me to just stay here alone with you all the time, but I…”

Trailing off, Stiles lifted his left arm and turned it over to show the pair of concentric circles that were tattooed on his inner wrist. The symbol of Scott’s pack– of his pack.

“You need more than that.” Derek finished for him, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

Stiles looked up at him and, after a moment, let his True Eyes shine through, bright, almost glowing green. Derek responded by allowing his own eyes to shine, beautiful, luminescent blue, and then leaning down to kiss him firmly, decisively. “Invite your friends. We’ll squeeze them in somehow. But if they rat me out to the FBI, you’re the one that’s going to have to clean up the mess, deal?”

Stiles grinned and dragged him back down for another kiss. “Deal.”

~*~*~

Markets weren’t really Stiles’… thing. Farmers’ markets, crafters’ markets, seasonal markets, whatever. He found them innately boring (even if they were a good place to procure seasonal fruits and vegetables.) But Derek loved them and it was the time of year when they were popping up everywhere so Stiles relented and went to a few, just to make his boyfriend happy. And it did – make Derek happy, that is. He wandered around the markets they went to with a little, content smile on his face that could only make Stiles smile, too, and… okay. Maybe markets weren’t so bad after all.

It was funny, how things had kind of slowly progressed to Happy Derek over the course of their relationship. When they had first gotten together, he had been his usual grumpy self, and that had continued on, with a few short glints of lightheartedness here-and-there, for the months that they had been dating while Stiles had still been living in the dorms at the FBI Academy.

Then, when Stiles had eventually called it a day and moved back to Beacon Hills, Derek seemed to brighten and brighten until they were living together and he was just… happy. He smiled. He laughed. He genuinely seemed to enjoy life, and while Stiles was all for Happy Derek it was also somewhat befuddling at times. He wanted to ask, but every time he was about to he chickened out because he wasn’t entirely sure what the answer would be.

Now, though, Derek was looking through an assortment of decorative candles– some of which Stiles was pretty sure were made to look like zombie unicorns – with that little, contented smile on his face, probably browsing for Christmas presents (if Derek got him a zombie unicorn candle for Christmas Stiles thought he might scream.) and Stiles just. Watched him. Probably with the same tiny, happy smile on his own face.

Derek was humming and hawing over a particular candle– this time a cat with three eyes– and Stiles finally reached to catch his free hand, tangling their fingers together and tugging gently. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Derek blinked back to the present to look at him, and Stiles smiled, a real smile, and just leaned up to kiss him gently. Derek made a pleased little noise because Stiles was staunchly against PDA as a general rule, then tilted his head to kiss back with a hum.

Which was when Stiles felt eyes on him.

His hackles up, he pulled away quickly to look around the room–

–only to spot Scott and his mother two aisles down and one over. And Scott was staring at them hard , eyes wide while his Mom was completely oblivious to the entire exchange. Stiles’ eyes darted away, then back, then away again before he grabbed the candle Derek was holding and slammed it back on the table, and followed that up by tightening his grip on the older man’s hand and dragging him out of the vendor’s hall in all but a flat-out run.

“Wha– Stiles! ”

He didn’t even know if the startled voice calling his name came from Derek or Scott.

That was why Stiles didn’t do PDA.

~*~*~

“Did you at least apologize?” Steve seemed sympathetic, a few days later when he and Jaskier were crammed into Stiles’ and Derek’s tiny apartment, seated on the couch while Stiles lamented his story. Jaskier had no sympathy, instead grinning and giggling to himself because– well, because that was how Jaskier was, he supposed.

“He did.” Derek called from the kitchen where he had been working on dinner and incidentally eavesdropping, “apologize, that is. And we made up.”

Stiles had to grin at that. “ Vigorously .”

Jaskier snickered and Steve rolled his eyes and shoved at Stiles’ shoulder. Then he hesitated before asking, “okay, but not like, here , right, on the pull-out?”

“Who are you kidding, Stevie?” Jaskier laughed, “they’ve fucked on every surface of this apartment and you know it.”

Stiles just shrugged.

“Ew.” Steve commented, before adding, “and don’t call me that, Jask.”

“Ah, right, I almost forgot that dearest Agent Barnes is the only one permitted to call you that.” A grin, and Jaskier continued with, “how sad is it that all three of us have a passionate thing for older men?” Then, with a tiny pout; “and how tragic that you two have managed to snag yours, while I appear destined to pine away forever~?”

That got a quick look between Stiles and Steve because, to them , at least, it was incredibly obvious that Agent Rivia was interested. Jaskier just wasn’t seeing the signs, and neither of them knew how to tell him beyond literally smacking him up the back of the head. At this point it was kind of an unspoken thing between Stiles and Steve that they would keep their noses out of things and let Jaskier and Rivia work it out for themselves. (After all, everything had worked out for them , right?)

From the kitchen, Derek cleared his throat and interjected, “you could always start sending him random, weird gifts from the Internet in the mail.”

Jaskier and Steve both rolled their eyes, but Stiles grinned. “Worked for me!”

“I still have that shirt, too.”

“I know, you wore it last time I was mad at you.”

“Worked like a charm.”

Stiles found himself smiling fondly over toward the kitchen until Steve swatted his arm to catch his attention again. “Anyway,” The blond sighed, “what are you going to do about the whole…” Trailing off for a second, he gestured vaguely between Stiles and Derek before finishing, “I mean, you can’t keep it a secret forever… right?”

Stiles bristled for the briefest second. Then he sighed and looked down, picking absently at his jeans as he tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy his friends and not upset Derek at the same time.

“I’ve been thinking about that.”

Brown eyes lifted from the worn jean almost sheepishly. “Hm?”

Derek came out into the living room, wiping his hands on a towel as he did, to stand and look down at Stiles, expression worried and contemplative. “I’ve figured out by now that you’re not comfortable with other people knowing we’re together.” A pause, then; “except these assholes, for some reason?” He chuckled along when everyone else laughed. “But it’s been over a year since I moved in here with you, and we were dating– sort of– for months before that, too.”

Stiles wasn’t a hundred percent sure he liked where this was going, but he just nodded along anyway.

A sigh and Derek gave Steve and Jaskier an apologetic smile. “Could you guys give us some privacy for a couple minutes?”

Steve and Jaskier exchanged a glance– and then Jaskier popped to his feet and hauled Steve up with him. “No problem, we can go for a walk!” Dragging Steve over to the door, he added over his shoulder, “but we’ll be like, fifteen minutes, max, so we’d better not walk back in on anything gross!”

Steve squawked and barely managed to call out “We’ll knock!” before the door shut behind them.

And without them there, Stiles felt trapped. They were about to have a conversation that he had been avoiding for the better part of two years and he wasn’t sure he was particularly prepared for it now.

Luckily, Derek made it short and painful. He sat down next to Stiles and leaned to kiss by the younger man’s jaw gently. “The werewolf in me might want to keep you in my own pack,” he informed, and damn him for using Stiles’ own words against him; ���but I also want to be able to show you off. You’re my mate, for all intents and purposes, and I want people to know that. I’m proud of it.”

Stiles stared at him, flabbergasted. When he finally found his words it was to blurt out “but I’m a fox !”

Derek snorted. “I’d noticed. But I knew that before we ever got together and it didn’t stop me. Also I scent mark you constantly ,” to make his point he leaned in to rub his jaw along Stiles’ with a rumble, “did you never wonder why I did that?”

“‘Cause you’re a weirdo.” Stiles grumbled petulantly. And then; “I didn’t say stop.”

Another little snort. Derek nibbled along his jaw and then buried his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck. “I’m possessive and I want people to know you’re mine. And Scott and the others, they won’t mind , you know that…”

“Do I know that? I’ve always been so into girls, like intensely into girls , at least as far as everyone else is concerned.” Stiles brought one hand up to card his fingers through Derek’s hair and the wolf practically purred at his touch, “not even Scott knows I’m bi.” Then, after a beat, “until a few days ago. I guess.”

Not that he thought Scott would run around telling everyone what he saw but it still made nerves squirm in his stomach at the thought.

“I think we should stop hiding.” Derek’s voice was muffled against Stiles’ shirt, “you know Lydia’s Christmas Party that we’re all invited to? I think we should go together, as a couple.”

Stiles stomach straight-up flipped upside down, but… Derek had a point. It would be nice to be out of hiding. And telling all of their friends at the same time would be convenient, at least. The party was a good idea.

“I guess… okay.” Stiles allowed after a moment’s thought, still playing with Derek’s hair, “but if it goes bad, it’s on you.”

He could feel Derek smile against the crook of his neck. “If it goes bad I’ll wear that shirt for you again.”

Stiles laughed . “Okay, deal.”

~*~*~

“Faith and Renfri are pissed they didn’t get to come.” Jaskier laughed without looking up from his phone as he texted back and forth between the two women in question. He was standing by the front door with his backpack slung over one arm, waiting for Steve to finish throwing his stuff in his own back so they could catch the next bus to Quantico.

“They can come next time.” Stiles bargained, “we can have a girls’ weekend.”

Jaskier feigned offense, “without me? ”

“Without~ you~!” Stiles singsonged, even as he was giving Steve one last hug goodbye and ushering them both out the door.

“Good luck!” Steve called over his shoulder.

Stiles smiled and waved. Yeah he was going to need it.

~*~*~

The night of the party Stiles honestly thought he was going to hyperventilate until he passed out and Derek had to calm him down on two separate occasions, once wrapping him up in a tight hug and the other staring into his eyes until the blue soaked right through him and eased him back to normal.

Eventually he did manage to get dressed and out the door, though the walk to Lydia’s place just amped his nerves up again until, by the time they arrived, he was nervous and twitchy– so basically his normal self. Derek took his hand, threaded their fingers together tightly, and tugged him along inside. 

When Lydia answered the door her eyes darted between the two of them, then down to their clasped hands– and then she just smiled widely and ushered them inside where–

–oh shit that was literally everyone, wasn’t it.

The party kind of ground to a halt for a second as everyone turned to look at them and Stiles began to panic, until Derek released his hand and slid an arm around him instead, his hand coming to rest on Stiles’ hip as they stood in the doorway and Stiles tried not to make eye contact with anyone. He resisted the urge to huddle into Derek’s side and looked around until he found– there. Scott. Scott smiling . Oh thank God. Okay.

And then from somewhere in the back of the room, Jackson’s voice called out “I FUCKIN’ CALLED IT! ”

“JACKSON!” Lydia protested loudly, “YOU DON’T GET TO TALK!”

And just like that, the tension melted away from Stiles and he did lean into Derek, just a little, before looking up at him with a smile. “Let’s go in.”

Derek leaned down to kiss him. “Yeah,” he agreed, “let’s go in.”

[hyukassubi]

🍪 05 | The Prince's Sick Meal/ Blue and White Tiled Kitchens

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 2,408

The crowned prince fell ill to a nasty cold, cooped up in his bedroom with snotty tissues all over the floor and an opened chess board over his bed to play his eighth winning streak against Commander Knight Bangchan.

The Commander Knight was not having fun, and that’s the amusing part of all of this.

Taehyun wondered, sometimes, if not the obvious florist and bakery errands you helped run from time to time, what did you do during your spare time?

You couldn’t come over to play with Taehyun today, but that didn’t stop you from paying him a visit.

With homemade food.

Yes, in the kitchen of one of the most notorious well-profound bakeries in all of the kingdom, little eleven year old you was cooking up a storm, following along a recipe in your mother’s old cookbook: Curry Katsudon.

“Potatoes… Onions… Carrots...” You trailed off, checking over the ingredients by the sink in your mother’s humble kitchen. It was a pretty thing, walls covered in floral tiles, whites and blues, laced curtains providing a massive scenic view of the alleyway connected to your father’s shop full of bushes and flowers of all types and a pair of keen eyes watching through your window sill-

In your hands were two blades— a butcher knife and a bread knife— cookbook long forgotten face-flat on the ceramic floor as you threatened, “Get out of my mom’s kitchen or el— Oh, hey Kai!”

Huening Kai who was gripping for dear life onto the side of a metal pipe with leaves and twigs in his hair climbed down promptly, face flushed. “Oh— Uh, hey Y/n!” His smile didn’t seem quite so cheery.

Not long after, a third voice bellowed from the cash register outside, “Darling, is there another rat in the kitchen? What did I say about threatening harmless little rodents with kitchen utensils when we can just call your father over to exterminate those damned pests?”

It was your mother.

You didn’t get why your mother insisted on father killing the rodents when he’s even more deathly afraid of anything fast and on all fours with a long snakey tail than your mother will ever be, but you digress.

You let the frightened boy into the kitchen through the window without the knives in your hands. “False alarm, momma, it’s just Kai.”

Your mother appeared into the kitchen soon after, metal doors swung open with a broomstick just in case.

Her face softened when she saw the small boy all pinkened and bashful standing next to you. “Oh, hello Kai.”

Kai gulped, eyes on the broomstick. “Hello auntie.”

“Did you bring your little prince buddy along with you?”

You responded for Kai, hands clutched onto his... for whatever reason. It was a subconscious thing. Taehyun did it with you countless of times before without either of you being aware of it until Taehyun looks down, looks back up, shrugs his shoulders and continues squeezing your hands regardless. This is just another one of those ‘oh yeah this is my best friend and the guy just needs a little physical support’ moment, right? “Taehyun is sick, momma, I told you about it already.”

Her eyes squinted in an ironic way. “I can never be sure with you children. Anyway, what’s the knight doing here in my kitchen?”

“That’s… a good question.” You furrowed your brows, facing Huening Kai. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm… I wanted to hangout with Y/n, if that’s okay…” his words were meant for your mother, but his eyes never left you. “Since the prince is sick.”

“Mhm.” Your mother’s eyes squinted even further, seeing right through him, smirking. “Since the prince is sick.” She repeated.

Your hands clutched onto Kai’s, both of them, harder than before, hopping on your heels because a lightbulb had popped above your head. “Hey, why don’t you help me cook a sick meal for Taehyun? I was just going over all the ingredients and since you’re here, why not help me out a little bit?”

“Uhh—”

“Great!” You picked up the cookbook, placing it in front of a basket of fruit of support. “Now it says here…”

Huening Kai only half listened, still phased by the situation he has somehow gotten himself into.

He did come over to ask you out to play, and perhaps he got lost on his way to look for the entrance of the bakery, but he knew he was in the right place when he saw you… at the window… completely absorbed into whatever you were doing, eyes focused, tongue cutely sticking out of your lips like a five year old doing a painting.

The same girl that keeps watching over him during his training sessions.

He never asked for it, he never asked to be looked after or even looked up upon, but he was seen and that thought alone brought the young knight comfort.

It didn’t make sense at first, why a random village girl would stick around for no reason in the palace grounds. But as he got to know you and where you stood, he figured, you didn’t need a reason than to just be truly there.

Of all people who could’ve watched over him regularly, it wasn’t his family, his friends, not the prince, all for their own valid reasons, but you did.

You were always there, all the time.

He’ll be more than happy to help you with your cooking.

“I didn't know Taehyun liked eating this kind of stuff…” Huening Kai went on peeling vegetables right by your side, elbows bumping ocassionally. He was in charge of the carrots, you were in charge of the potatoes. The mild buzz of customers rung from outside, followed by the clitter-clattering of coins but for a majority of the time, it was just you and Kai and Kai and you and you can't have it any other way.

“Oh yeah no, he mentioned it was his favourite after school meal some time ago, and it’s no coincidence that his entire kitchen smelled of those familiar heavenly herbs and spices. I’ve heard his mom complain about the ‘stench’ time and time again, but he doesn’t seem to care.”

Huening Kai gasped. “How dare she complain about that ‘stench’?”

“I know right? How dare she.” You mocked him with a playful tone, just enough to pull on his strings but not push over his feeble heart. You giggled along, and he did, too.

Something about cooking with another person made the world seem to spin a little faster, like time is going by so quickly yet peacefully all at the same time. “I introduced him to the dish, actually.” You admitted, taking a long gaze outside the window to your father’s shop.

You wondered at times how he's doing, if he needed a helping hand. Or if he was peering back at the window with a pleased smile because you had a friend that wasn't the prince for once.

“Oh. So that makes it your favourite food?”

“No, it was my parents’ favourite food. Back when they met in high school, they’d stop by this roadside stall and hog down on a bowl of curry katsudon.”

“Oh… like a date?”

You dropped a peeled potato into a bowl of water with the rest of it’s starch buddies. “Yup, everytime. On the edge of the sidewalk, eating with plastic spoons. My dad says that the luxuriousness of a dating spot doesn’t matter when he gets to spend his time with the people he loves most.”

Huening Kai loved how you made eating food on the side of a road sound so comfy. “He’s not wrong, but like, all the time?”

“I think so. They can never get bored of it, and I don’t know if my parents meant the food or each other’s company, but… I think it’s both. It’s kinda sad that the chef couldn’t afford to open up his own restaurant, though.”

“Even when your parents buy from that place every single date they had together?” Huening Kai joked.

“Mhm, customer loyalty be damned. My mom says that if I can replicate the taste of the curry katsudon, she’ll ship me to Taehyun’s Royal Academy for Princes and Princesses.” You shrugged. “I told her I knew she was being sarcastic.”

Huening Kai didn’t respond. He took a good look at this kitchen, aware at how long he left you at a comfortable silence (a good ten seconds).

He pictured this: a small grubby girl with pigtails and chocolate-batter stained lips and fingertips running around the kitchen with an empty glass bowl, running away from her mother who was young and fresh and so ready to tickle her to death for finishing up raw cookie batter.

Another picture: a girl chopping cabbages alone, accompanied by the tweeting of birds and… a knock on the kitchen door. It was her father, perhaps. Coming in, checking on his beloved daughter.

Another picture, and the more Huening Kai dreamed, the more the images seemed out of reach: a boy who comes in with fidgety hands behind his back and a turned away chin, wondering if the lovely young girl in this lovely kitchen could go on adventures with him someday.

He pauses now, eyes trailing along the edge of counter tops and the knives on the walls organized by size, wondering if he’ll ever be present in such a place again, especially after his knight prowesses are completed. Wondering if, perhaps, a moment like this could be repeated again and again, like your parents did during their high school dating days.

He let his thoughts slide, jumping back into the conversation, “Is the stall owner still alive?”

Huening Kai had no interest in cooking. Or food. But he liked peeling potatoes and carrots with you. Maybe a little too much, more than he’d like to admit. Even when it came to peeling the last carrot, he purposely slowed down the strokes of his peeler, hoping the moment could last a little longer.

“Hm… Wait, let me ask my mo—”

“No. No you don’t have to. I was just… curious. I guess.”

“Yeah no, that’s a good question, actually. I can’t believe I never really thought of it. Maybe he’s still alive and grey and old and is still stuck on the side of the road selling his little curry meals. Who knows.”

“I’m rooting for that guy. I hope he opens his own restaurant, one day.” Your parents sounded happy together, he wanted to but didn’t say.

‘Do you think we’ll all be like that someday?’, He didn’t and probably will never say, though he knew he had a clear picture in his head that you and him and the prince will be happy for a very long time.

And to that, all you can do is sigh. “Same here, Hyuka.”

“…” The peeler paused on the base of the carrot. “…”

“I’m sorry.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Hyuka. I’m sorry. Your name’s just way too long sometimes I mean- I was stuck in between saying ‘Huening’ and ‘Kai’ but then the words mixed together so I went ‘Hyuka’.”

Huening Kai, slowly, filled the bowl of water with a peeled carrots. “I… kinda like that, actually.”

‘Me too’, you wanted to tell him, but you came up with something even better:

“Hello, Hyuka.”

Prince Taehyun would never forget the time he shared his favourite food with his two best friends on a sick day in his bedroom.

“You guys are the best.” He gulped down another spoon of rice, curry sauce and katsu. “You should cook for me again next time. All the time, if you could.”

“And you should join us.” You shot a playful wink at the prince, to which he grimaced.

“As if.” Taehyun scoffed, folding his arms and turning his head away with a pout, clearly overreacting but perhaps it was his sickness that got him extra sassy today. “I hate peeling onions.”

Huening Kai just stared ahead, his mind diving into thoughts of blue and white tiled kitchens accompanied by background chatter and peeling carrots and potatoes on top of a thick and rich curry roux and the afternoon sunlight spilling through the window all over on you, you, you.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

♡𓂃A/n: The way this accidental cooking date wouldn't have ever existed if Taehyun wasn't sick (everybody drop your jaws) 🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢 also, I know this chapter isn't the goofiest but I do hope y'all enjoyed something more calm and sweet 🫶🫶🫶🫶

♡𓂃Tags: @sweetheartsaku @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree @stormy1408 @blossommi @flaminghotyourmom

Reblog and review if you like my work!!

[octopiys]

II. two turtle doves

Wordcount: 7.2k IM SO SORRY THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME

Pairing(s): eventual Soap/Ghost, Price/Nikolai, implied Alejandro/Rodolfo

Warnings: blood/violence, traumatic injury, chronic pain (written by someone with chronic pain), ptsd, hallmark Christmas, description of an animal attack

(A/N: hello here's the second part! I hit 400 followers, and then lost a few so I was gonna celebrate but take this as it is! Thank yall so much for the support <3, my requests are still open!!)

Find the masterlist here.

His shoulder bag dropped to the floor as he shuffled his way into the small cabin, the snow picking up outside. Luckily enough, the majority of the place was furnished as Laswell told him it would be, outside of other decorations.

He was sure it was more than he needed, but it didn't quite matter. He limped into the bedroom, flicking on the light. A thin layer of dust had covered the place, another project he'd have to start, and dumped his bag's contents into the drawers. A few photos were set out on the dresser, the counter, and....

That was easier than he expected.

Maybe he should've gone into the store when he was in town.

Dammit.

It was late anyways. He forgot that the night comes sooner in the winter. It's been a while since he's been in a place where the nights were actually cold, where the darkness was one that enveloped you.

He locked the doors, double checked the windows, and then checked them again. All secured.

So he got in the shower.

He couldn't listen to music, not now at least. He had to make sure that he categorized everything, made sure that he had all the sounds processed, all the normalicies compartmentalized.

The warm water made him gasp, then breathe a sigh of relief as it worked out the knots in his shoulders.

He needed to cut his hair.

It was by no means within military regulations anymore, not that he needed it to be. But the normalcy was almost required of him, and his mohawk was growing long beneath his fingers. He hadn't had the chance to cut it since.... however long it had been before he started PT. He ran shampoo through it, almost touching the tip of his shoulders, then allowed himself a few more sparing minutes in the warmth before getting out.

The night was long. His mind was restless as he tossed and turned in his too clean sheets. His bed was too soft, too comfortable, or maybe not enough. By the time he got used to the sounds of the water heater, it turned off, and he was left with the whir of the fan and the space heater.

Helicopter blades.

Laswell was worried, and Roach was scared-

He pushed his covers off and turned off the fan, sighing.

His clock blinked at him, the numbers reading 04:32.

No better way to start the day than early.

He stretched, sitting at the edge of his bed. He didn't bother with his knee brace, he'd put it on before he left. Just had to be a little careful around here.

The linoleum was cold underneath his feet as he padded into the kitchen. There wasn't a coffee pot.

He wondered what the chances were that the bakery was open. If not, he was sure there was a Starbucks somewhere within this town, he'll just finish some reports, then....

He popped a few pills into his mouth, swallowing them dry. Pain meds, pain meds that didn't work. But it doesn't matter too much to him right now, as he straps his knee brace on and sighs. He shrugs on his windbreaker, since it's the only thing he has outside of the one long sleeved shirt he owned, and headed out.

The streets were cold, no suprise there, but in no way were they dark. The telephone poles were alight with decoration, Christmas lights winding up and down the wood. Every corner didn't go amiss either, bright as almost day.

His breath fogged up the cold air, and he hunched closer into himself to try and conserve heat. No one was out on the streets, not that he had expected there to be, but that meant that nothing was open, either.

Soon enough, the bakery came into view, the LED lights of the SpecBru sign reflecting on parts of the icy pavement. Lights on, Soap could see in the windows from here, the man from yesterday, Kyle, sweeping and looking like he was in the process of opening.

Soap entered quicker than he would've liked to, startling the crap out of the poor baker.

"Hey-! You're- oh. Hey, Johnny boy, early start to the day?" Kyle asked, recovering his broom from the floor where he had thrown it.

Soap groaned and slid into a booth, rubbing his hands together to try and get them warm again. "Too early. Can the day start if it never ended?" He grumbled to no one but himself, and he heard Kyle chuckle.

"I'll take it you need a coffee, then?"

"Bless ye, Kyle."

The rumble of the coffee machines were heard as Kyle powered them on. The dishwasher was currently going, and most of the display case was empty, not having been filled yet in the early hours of the morning.

Kyle was once again wearing his faded blur cap, but this time, he wore a dark blue apron that covered a red and green sweater.

"A fan of the holidays?" Soap asked, leaning forward as he watched the man work.

"You kinda have to be to live here, Johnny. It's like a month long ordeal." Kyle said with a shrug of his shoulders, watching as the machine poured the steaming liquid into a mug. "It's the theme surrounding here. Y'know, we've even got a petting zoo. Except the guy there isn't too much of the 'Santa' type."

Soap grimaced. "He's nae like-"

"Oh God no!" Kyle laughed as the machine spizzled to a stop, and he pulled out the mug, sliding it across the counter to Soap. "Just a hermit, is all. Not much to worry about, but the kids seem to love him."

Soap hummed, taking a large sip of his coffee, practically moaning as the warmth coursed through him. "That's some good shite, Kyle."

The man laughed. "Thanks, mate. I should probably open a store."

Soap chuckled. "Och, speakin' o' stores, ye ken where I can find a warmer jacket?"

Kyle blinked at him.

"Do *you know* where I can find a war-mer jacket?" He tried his best British impression to try and get the words through the man's head.

Kyle stopped whatever he was doing, giggling like a child. "Please- please don't ever do that again, lord jesus- yes, I know where the general store is, I can take you once Alex gets here, he's supposed to help me open-"

As if on cue, the little bell above the door dinged as it opened, a new guy backing in through the door. Somehow, he was balancing a stack of boxes in his arms, unable to see past them, but still muttered a, "coming through!" as he walked by.

Soap saw imminent death as the man, Alex, was heading straight for a stray chair, diving forward to stop him before-

"Oh, shit!" The American said, tipping forward, but Soap grabbed the top two boxes before they fell, unable to save Alex who fell directly into the chair. The ceramics within the box clicked together, but remained largely unbroken as Kyle slid across a table to help him up.

"Ah- are ye alright?" Soap asked, hesitantly, setting the boxes down quickly before turning towards Alex to check him over.

"Yeah yeah, thank you, Gaz-" He batted Kyle away, doing a once over of Soap, then the boxes, before double taking Soap. "Wait a minute. I... don't know you."

Gaz, who was checking inside the boxes to make sure the mugs were still intact, glanced over between the both of them. "Oh, sorry. Alex, this is Johnny, Johnny, this is Alex. Alex is our head barista, and Johnny... just... moved here." Kyle settled on, smoothing his hands over his apron. To Soap, it seemed like suddenly he looked rather nervous.

The head barista, Alex, seemed also relatively put together, even if he almost tripped and died on the way in. His hair was brushed into an almost curled sort of way, his beard neat and trimmed, and a bit of an unruly mustache. Okay, a bit is an understatement, but you get the picture. Less noticeably, the man also had a prosthetic leg, and an impressive sleeve of tattoos, wearing a scarf he swore he'd seen before....

There was an awkward pause that had settled over the room, before Soap cleared his throat and turned away, feeling like he was intruding on something.

"Johnny boy!" Gaz almost shouted, startling the shit out of him. The baker was sin the process of taking off his apron, throwing it behind the counter, grabbing Soap by the arm. "Time to go to the store. Let's- let's go."

The door closed behind them, and through the frosted windows, Soap saw Alex blinking in confusion.

"So... Alex, huh?" Soap mused, zipping up his jacket.

"You shut your goddamned mouth, Johnny." Kyle groaned, hiding his face in his scarf. His face was burning as his cheeks glowed in embarrassment.

"What? Ah'm just sayin', he's easy on the eyes, laddie-"

"He's dating Farah, and they're both my best friends! Besides it's not like- like- oh, forget it." Snow was coming down lightly, melting as it came into contact with the salted pavement. Soap brushed some out of his hair before it froze in his mohawk.

The sun was barely rising despite it being a bit of a decent time into the morning now, a downside of the long winter nights. But the town was slowly waking up, Soap had started seeing more people come outside, other cars join the streets, lights and displays turning on.

Kyle made an abrupt turn into an alleyway, muttering something about a shortcut, and Soap followed without a trace of doubt in his mind, only burning with one question.

"Why do they call ye Gaz?"

He'd heard it before from the woman behind the counter yesterday, and hadn't thought much of it, and Alex's remark had caused him to remember.

"Ah well-" Gaz pulled the brim of his hat down onto his head, muttering something that he couldn't hear.

"Wh-?"

"I blew up an oven and a kid called me Gas! But he- he had a bit of a speech impediment so it came out as 'Gaz' and-" Soap started laughing at the man's defensiveness, and the story. "- And- shut up, Johnny- and everyone just started using it, that's-"

Soap had doubled over in laughter, clutching his aching sides in the cold air. Kyle rolled his eyes, but couldn't fight off a smile.

Soon enough, after both men recovered, they walked into the store. And it's The Store(trademarked!), according to Gaz, because it had anything they ever needed, which was real convenient! .....until he ran out of baking supplies one time and had to close SpecBru until the store got in their next monthly shipment.

It was much warmer in here than outside, despite the buzzing fluorescents above them. Most of the shelves were stocked, a few people with carts pulling around until they found what they needed.

Gaz dragged him to the clothes section first. "You're gonna want more winter clothes than summer clothes for sure, so we'll find you a jacket first. Then we'll move on to pants, and shirts, and then I'll leave you to roam before Alex burns the place down before I get back."

"Comin' from ye, Gaz." Soap teased, and Gaz grumbled a few curses under his breath.

"Still a valid concern."

He was lucky that the military paid him well before his leave. He never had much to spend it on either way, and rarely was it ever for himself. Between clothes, and the groceries that he hasn't even started looking for yet, it was good that he never did. At least ten outfits, and Gaz making fun of him for an hour, later, Soap finally was able to escape and get groceries. Gaz left him on his own, headed out to load his truck with supplies for the week.

Okay, he could do this.

He started worming his way through the aisles, picking off various things like cereals, some canned goods, and a case of water– all imperishables.

Then he stopped.

He'd be living here for a while, as Laswell tried to tell him, as much as he didn't want to believe it. He was sure he'd need other things, like a toothbrush and- oh, and a coffee pot. With coffee. Oh, that sounds so good.

So he made his way to the coffee aisle, which was also the tea, soup, pasta, and spice aisle, planning on beelining right towards the coffee machinery. Quickly glancing over each box, he picked out a little blue machine, turning it around to read about it as he walked back to his cart.

No more than two steps gone had he run into someone, stumbling backwards, a flurry of apologies leaving his mouth as he lowered the box.

"Watch it," growls a gruff voice in a skull patterned sweater.

You know how when you're imprisoned, and you're supposed to find the biggest, meanest looking guy and either beat him up, or befriend him?

This guy would definitely be the pick in the yard.

Soap did a quick once over. Tall and muscled, wearing at least a few layers of clothes, and an odd looking ski mask that barely hid honey colored eyes, the man was downright intimidating, even for him. Hell, he'd been through war, seen the gulags, dealt with experiments, and torture, and corruption, and yet....

Soap wouldn't stand a chance against him.

"Shite, yer just built like a brick chimney are ya? Not surprised ya didn't see me. I'm John MacTavish, but you can call me Johnny if ya want- or if ya want to call me anything else that'd be fine too." His voice wavered with his crumbling suave confidence. He was blowing it as he spoke, but he maintained to hold the fort down as he set the coffee machine in his cart and hurriedly stuck out a hand, just slow enough to hide his eagerness.

The skull patterned man instead glared and reached to grab something off the shelf behind him, brushing over Soap's shoulder to do so.

Yeah, Soap was absolutely dwarfed in comparison.

He smelled like lumber and pine, mixed with something slightly animal, sinewy, like a barn. Not that Soap was, like, paying attention to that at all- or anything-

And then the tension was broken as the man ended his glare to roll his eyes and mutter something akin to "bloody tourists", as he pulled away with a box of tea, honey eyes darting to the sign in the next aisle before walking off.

Soap's face flushed alight with humiliation as he stood, flabbergasted with himself, glancing around the aisle and making eye contact with a lady who also seemed to be hiding her second-hand embarrassment by reaching for too many boxes of pasta.

He needed to find Gaz. Fuck the coffee, he was done shopping, he could come back later, he needed to get out of there before he made anything worse-

"An' then ah just decided ta talk to 'im like a dumb lad who's never seen a real person! After ah hit 'im wit' a coffee pot!" Soap exclaimed frustratedly, as he forcibly hung clothes up in his closet. He had already donned his new boots and coat, feeling much warmer than he has within the previous hours. "Ah mean, sure, ah woulda liked ta get ta know 'im, an'-"

"John, mate, I can't understand a thing you're sayin' when you're all hot and bothered-"

"Ah'm NAE-"

"IF I HAVE TO hear about a fuckin' coffee pot again, I'm gonna throw it against the wall and send you off to get a new one. Take a breather, aight?" Gaz continued as if he hadn't heard about him. "Besides, I've got a pretty good idea of who you're talkin' about. Right miracle he didn't rip your head off after you touched him the first time."

Soap blinked at him, gaping like a fish. "What d'ya mean?"

"I mean, the man's a social recluse. Rarely see him, and half the time I do, it's never longer than ten minutes. I barely get a hello out of him when he comes into SpecBru-"

"He goes into SpecGru?" John eagerly swayed like a teenager learning new gossip on their favorite celebrity.

"-Shush, let me finish. I barely get a hello out of him when he comes into the bakery, but the man's kind. Doesn't quite get on with most people, either, but we see 'im more around the holidays than any other time." Gaz tossed him another shirt, and he caught it, before sticking a hanger through the sleeves, and wiping a hand over his face. "That's the last one, by the way."

Soap thanked him, before an alarm went off on his phone. It jarred him out of his senses for a moment, the newness deciding to-

He hated that goddamn alarm. Up and at em, always. Whether it was paperwork, or deployment, it was always there. Always constant. The coldness of the tile beneath his feet grounded him, soothed the horrid ache in his leg from the ground up. It always got his heart racing when it went off. He'd have to change it when he got back to wherever Laswell was deciding to send him for recovery.

"John, you alright?"

It was the default on his phone. Had to take his goddamn medicine. Always a part of the schedule, so he didn't have to worry about it until suddenly he had no work to do. He lost his schedule. Some things were best left behind.

"Uh- aye, sorry. Can you-" Gaz had his phone in his hands, and Soap was sitting on his bed. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. The alarm was no longer going off. "-hand me the medicine container on the dresser please?"

The deep ache in his knee was beginning to return the longer that he thought about it. He blinked again slowly, taking a deep breath like he was grounding himself. Gaz wordlessly passed him the container, not even sparing a glance to read whatever it said. Tramadol, paracetamol, and another thing he usually forgot. One pill would do for now, while the pain wasn't bad enough to incapacitate him for a second pill.

"As I was saying before," Gaz continued as if he had never stopped, and Soap was thankful. "His name's Simon. Simon Riley. His go to order is usually two eccles cakes and an English breakfast, or an earl grey-"

"Why are ye telling me this?"

"Because I think you're practically in love with this guy, and I'd rather tell you instead of watching you struggle to figure it out. Anyways," He fixed his cap, standing up and leaving to the kitchen to unload the rest of the stuff. Soap followed him out, looking like a lost puppy, begging and sniffling for a crumb of anything Gaz wished to give him.

"Ah'm nae in love wit' 'im! Ah just hit him with a coffee machine!" He exclaimed, storming into the kitchen.

"Right, right, of course. Y'know, he runs the Riley Farm just outside of town. They call themselves a tree farm, but there's a shit ton of other things to do there too. Shame it's just him runnin' it, though." Gaz plugged in the coffee machine. "Got a whole petting zoo and everything."

"Petting zoo? For what, reindeer?" John joked, half disbelief written onto his face that much of anything could live up here, much less be considered 'petting zoo.'

The look of brief confusion on Gaz's face told him that he had hit the nail right on the head. "Nae, you dinnae- reindeer? Really?"

"Well... I mean, it's kind of on brand for us up here." Gaz gestured around, and Soap somehow knew what he meant. A Christmas themed town who's whole shebang is.... yeah, reindeer seemed the least weird out of it all, actually.

It turned out, reindeer was not, in fact, the least weird out of everything he learned.

Gaz had left a few hours ago after everything had been loaded into his little cabin, a place that was slowly coming together as home. Bacon was sizzling in a cast iron on the stove, Soap tired enough to only throw something together.

Skrrtch.

"What the...?" Soap whipped around at the sound behind him. Like scratching on glass, like someone was trying to open a door. He clicked off the burners, reaching for a kitchen knife. "Who's there? Yer at the wrong fuckin' house!"

Skriitchh.

He flipped the knife in his hand, angling the blade away from him. A slight breeze blew through the room, the curtains drifting in front of the glass door. It was dark outside, the early kind of dark that you get in the dead winter. Hair raised on the back of his neck as he heard it again, the slow scratch of something being drawn across glass. He took a couple steps towards the swaying curtains, hand out and-

"Creepin' jesus, fuck-!" Soap shouted after tearing the curtains away to reveal a.. deer? An elk? Whatever it was, it was stuck in the screening of his window, tired pants leaving it limp with exhaustion, it's antlers all tangled in the screen. He breathed an aggravated sigh, pushing the curtains against the wall.

He grabbed his nearest sweater, resting on the dining table and shrugged it on, before clicking in the flashlight on his phone and trudging outside. Pity nipped his heart with the biting cold outside as he stuck his phone in his pocket, the flashlight just peeking out to illuminate the creature.

Its breaths fogged up in the freezing air, small, short puffs of cloud fogging against his window.

"Poor bastard." Grumbled Soap, gently reaching over and patting the deer reassuringly, smoothing over its soft fur. It appeared to be so well kept that Soap could've considered it someone's pet, having escaped its fencing to enjoy the luxury of a screened window. He reached his knife just above the antlers, cutting into the screen and sawing away at the thin metal. The deer huffed, struggling again at the sudden release of pressure and Soap jerked the knife away before the animal could hurt itself any further.

There was a sharp tear in the screen as the deer bucked her head, and Soap muttered out a low curse, taking a step back from the animal. There would be no way to fix it now, not without getting it replaced.

Another tear, and Soap jumped into action, smoothing over its face with soft whispers of reassurance, slowly bringing his knife to cut around what he could.

A beam of light flashed over one of the hills further off his property, followed by some yelling in another language, and Soap's hands started working faster. The deer seemed to have realized that hebwas trying to help, because she lessened the tension in her body like she was trying to help him set her free.

"That's a good lassie, almost done, almost done..." He murmured, cutting through the last bit and snapping to get her attention. She shook her head, grunting and huffing with what he assumed to be appreciation, taking a few wobbly steps.

"We got her over here!" Shouts a deeper voice, thick with an accent and he looked up, startled, to see a man cresting his hill, holding a flashlight. Suddenly blinded by the beam, he doubled back with a wince, shielding his eyes from the bright light.

Another figure joined the one on the hill, and they began making their way down towards him.

"Er- can ah help ye lads?" Soap asked, now on the defensive. The deer huffed against him, pushing her nose into his jacket.

"You found Dasher!" The other man exclaimed, like that explained everything.

"Sorry, what's a-?"

"Dasher!" The man in the hat gestured to the deer, who happily trotted up and pushed her nose into the man's hand.

"Well, seems like the lass found me... More than tha', my window." He gestured to the torn up screen with a grimace. "But ah was able to cut 'er out without too much trouble to 'er."

The first man with the flashlight was currently looking over the deer, quietly scolding it in Spanish. He had shorter black hair, and the beginnings of stubble on his tanned face, a carhart jacket zipped up to his throat.

The other man was older, wore a kind of a fishing hat, along with what Soap would consider an impressive amount of facial hair. It looked slightly similar to Alex, from the bakery, but that was where the similarities ended. Soap noticed he appeared to be doing the same thing as he was, searching for a threat. He recognized the look, after all, he saw the same thing in the mirror every day. A military man.

But the man in the hat spoke first.

"You Laswell's guy?" He barked out the words like they were an order, one that he fought against to comply.

"Aye, I am. Ah take it you're hers as well?" He countered, biting back any attitude that may have leaked the 'I'm not good with authority figures' that he couldbe held in his tone.

"You could say I'm an old friend." The man said, with the same amount of force. Soap had an inkling of a feeling that he would be good friends with this man. "John Price," he said, clicking off the flashlight and sticking out a hand.

"John MacTavish, but you can call me Soap, sir." Soap said with a tip of his head, shaking his hand. It was warm, rough and calloused, the hands of a working man.

"This is my right hand, Alejandro Vargas. He usually monitors the park during the night, but Dasher here seemed to have slipped through." Price continued as the other man, Alejandro, nodded at him.

"You name all the creatures out in yer park?" Soap asked.

"Dasher is more of a, eh... Mascot." Alejandro reasoned, trying to fit a harness over her head, but she was not having it, instead backing up and huffing at him, before retreating back over to Soap.

"Right, a deer for a Christmas town named Dasher. What happened to Rudolph?"

Alejandro bit a laugh. "Too similar to the vet. Besides, I see no red nose."

While Soap was trying to figure out why the vet was a deer named Rudolph, Dasher pressed her nose into the small of his back, nudging him forward.

"She seems to 'ave taken a liking to you." Price grumbled, the thick rasp of his voice giving Soap the idea that the man might smoke a few. "Mind helping us get 'er back to the park? Not a long way from here, promise."

Soap shrugged. He had nothing better to do. If Laswell trusted this guy, then he did too.

He found himself saying that a lot recently.

So, haphazardly, they began steering Dasher up through the hills, the warm lights of his cabin fading off into the distance as Dasher believed this was all again. She pranced around the lot of them, wiggling up to each of them, like she was trying to push them into the snow.

Soon, a barn came into view, and she stopped, her head jolting up, ears pricking as she looked around... like she was looking for a threat.

"Price, eyes up." Alejandro barked quietly, eyes careful and guarded. He pulled something from the belt of his jeans, which Soap immediately realized as a gun. A flash of relief flooded through him, quickly masked by worry.

"What's out here that she could see as a threat?" Soap asked, his voice hushed as he stepped closer to Dasher, figuring he was safer close to her, considering the only weapon he had was a kitchen knife he left on his windowsill.

"Lobos," Alejandro says. "Wolves. Or bears. Or other people."

Soap shivered. "What can-"

"Quiet now," Price hissed, taking a few steps back towards them, carefully surveying the trees around them. "We move together. On me."

You can remove the man from the military, but you can never remove the military from the man.

They hadn't moved ten feet, ushering Dasher along like she was precious cargo on a recon mission, before a scream of agony tore through the air, echoing over from the open windows of the barn.

Yeah. Just like the field.

Alejandro's face went deathly pale as his head whipped around to look. "Rudy!" He shouted, tearing off in the same direction as the scream had come from.

All at once, they snapped into action. Soap dodged for the reindeer, grabbing it by the scruff and tugging her along as Price's heavy footfalls led him through the darkness.

They left the reindeer in the yard, bolting for the large barn doors.

Alejandro was a decent few paces ahead of them, pushing through the doors, turning the corner and disappearing behind it.

It smelled like animals, but well kept ones. Not like a zoo, where the poor creatures are kept in their own filth, ones that weren't cared for. It was clear to him, in this moment, that these animals were very well loved, not just by the owners, but by the town. As he was running, his eyes picked up small drawings, or little cards written in a child's hand on the sides of the stalls where other reindeer were pacing.

At the end of the barn, in one of the very last stalls, was a bit of a gory sight. One of the reindeer had another man pinned to the wall with her antlers, and he was squirming, looking like he was trying his best not to scream. Her antlers went through one of his shoulders, and upon spotting them, his eyes went wide.

"D- Don't hurt her! Dios mio! She's calving, she can't help it!" He shouted at them, his green apron covered in blood. He had a soft nose and kind eyes, his hair was bedraggled, and his face looked to be a few shades paler than it should've been.

"What d'we do then!?" Soap shouted, grabbing Alejandro by the shoulders to pull him back from startling the creature even further.

"Just- ah- don't- we gotta wait for her t-"

A sharp snap filled the air, and everyone froze, hearts hammering in their chests. It sounded like the sickening crunch of a bone breaking, and no one moved for fear of something breaking inside of the poor man.

And then the antlers fell.

The man dropped to his knees as the reindeer backed up, and Price rushed to calm her as Alejandro went to the man's side, muttering in soft Spanish.

Soap joined Price in calming the creature, who seemed agonized. "He said she was calving?" He asked the older man frantically.

"Yeah, that means she's-"

"Having a bairn, ah ken! Let her rest, she's gotta ground herself, we can help 'er from there!" Soap commanded, and Price stepped into act. "Alejandro! How's he doing?"

"I'll be fine, señor! Just- just help Vixen!" The man on the ground said as Alejandro pressed against the wounds in his shoulder.

Vixen. Huh.

Less than a minute past, and Vixen, the reindeer, had lay on the ground, bleating. Her breaths were falling heavy, and Soap slowly crouched down in front of her, palms up to show he wasn't a threat. Gently, he brushed through the fur on top of her head. "That's a good girl, yeah? Just breathe, mama, ye got this, yer doon fine, that's a good lass...." He murmured, and her bleating grew softer.

A gentle silence enveloped the barn. "I need someone ta check ta see if the bairn's comin' out." He said quietly, still stroking Vixen's head.

The man from before pushed Alejandro away, after his shoulder was thoroughly covered enough to staunch the bleeding. "She's almost here." The man spoke quickly, with little shake to his voice. He still had a bit of a Mexican accent, but not as heavy as Alejandro's.

"Aye. Can you gently tug her legs? Very slow, ah dinnae want her ta get stuck." Soap said, before going back to comfort the poor reindeer.

Moments later, tiny bleating filled the air, and the man next to him cheered, holding the small thing before gently balancing it next to its mother and tugging Soap back.

The mother took to her young quickly, licking the rest of the gunk out of its fur, leaving it looking bedraggled and fluffy.

"Got any names, boys?" Price asked, stepping next to them slowly, and crossing his arms as he watched.

The other three men stood there, covered in hay, and blood, and afterbirth, glancing around at one another before Soap spoke up.

"Olive? I mean, ye got that reindeer song going, then it goes like "Olive, the other reindeer," y'know?" He asked, and Alejandro nodded, not having the heart to correct his lyrics.

"Olive-" Price snrked, before covering his mouth, and scratching through his beard. "Yeah, Olive is good."

Soap rubbed his knee.

Price eyed him before clapping his hands together. "Let's head into the house, we can get you lot cleaned up. C'mon, we'll check on em later."

Wordlessly, they followed after him.

Price had a... large house, to say the least. The ranch house was build up near the base of the mountains, shrouded in tall pines that grazed the skies. The lower windows were lit up, and Soap could see people moving about inside.

"Were you a vet, Soap?" Price asked as they walked up the pathways to the house.

"O un medico?" The man, who he now presumed to be 'Rudy' asked, sounding like he was biting back his words. Alejandro stood directly at his side, helping him up the paths, with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Nae, just my basics. My ma had a farm in the highlands where she kept sheep. Figured it couldn't be too different." Soap said with a shrug, wincing as he took another step. His brace was a bit stiff beneath his pants, and the cold nipped his ears, and boy, was he excited to get inside.

"Jack of all trades, then." Alejandro grumbled, pushing open the front door.

The interior of the house was very... campy. But it had a cozy kind of warmth to it, and Soap felt all the tension immediately slip from his bones as he was hit with a wave of exhaustion.

Price took off his bucket hat and hung it by the door, calling out, "We're back! And remember, we have guests, so I hope you're on your best behavior!"

The older man disappeared into the kitchen (that smelled heavenly, by the way) and returned with a tactical bag, unzipping it as he walked. "Let's get you into the dining room, we'll use the light in there to stitch you up." He said firmly, and the three kicked into gear.

Some of the voices they heard towards the livelier parts of the home died down as they left the foyer. Soap didn't want to pry. He really didn't. But some questions were just bubbling up, begging to be asked.

"Ye have kids, Price?" He asked, feeling a strange familiarity between the group he was with. Oh man, did he have things to tell Gaz tomorrow.

Price shot him a cautious look, but relaxed slightly. "I foster." He says simply, and turned to Rudy. "You wanna do this, or should I?"

"Ay coño-" Rudy breathed sharply through his nose, beginning to pull his shirt off, before slapping a hand to his mouth to muffle a cry of pain. Alejandro's hands seized forward in a second, murmuring something softly into the man's ear, before pulling off his shirt.

Soap suddenly felt very out of place, like he was intruding on something much, much more private.

"You better not be getting blood on my dining table, John Price." Said a very distinct, yet very familiar Russian tone.

Soap whirled around, eyes wide as he exclaimed, "Nik?"

And there was Nikolai in a very comfy looking sweater, and a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, suddenly startled at the amount of activity going on in his dining room. From an outsiders perspective, it could've been a horrifying sight: three men covered in blood, hay, and snow, crowding around another guy sitting on the table, with his shirt off, and also covered in blood.

But Nikolai was no regular stranger. Instead, he barked a laugh at their predicament, and turned to Soap. "Did they rope you in too?"

"Wha-? How are ye- do y'know th-?" Soap spluttered before Price sighed loudly, looking between Nikolai, Soap, then to Rudy, and back.

"Can we focus on one thing at a time, please?" Price asked, gesturing to Rudy, who was now trying to fight off a smirk despite being slightly in pain. Alejandro seemed to be making the same face along with him.

"Seemed to have found your way back alright, eh, MacTavish?" Nik asked, stepping into the room and clapping him on the back. Soap seemed to feel slightly relieved at knowing someone else here, but was still extremely confused as to how he fit in. "I hope my meddling husband did not cause trouble for you?"

And it clicked. There we go.

"Nik..." Price mumbled. "Men are bleeding out on your table."

"Okay, okay. Boys, there's a bathroom down the hall, and one right up the stairs to your left. They both have showers. Go clean yourself up, we will take care from here."

Soap didn't even question it, only wanted to get out of his nasty, sticky clothes. He looked to Price, who rolled his eyes and mouthed 'Go', before going back to work on Rodolfo, who gave him a weary smile.

Next thing he knew, he was in a stranger's shower.

Now, this was not the first time he's ended up in a stranger's shower. He had experience. And also, he was tired, and hungry. He wanted to go home and sleep. He wanted... He wasn't really sure what he wanted. The bathroom smelled nice, and the shower felt even nicer, as he washed the grime, blood, and cold away from his skin.

By the time he got out, the mirror was completely fogged up, even the tiles of the floor were warmed from the steam. The liveliness of the house had picked up outside, he heard, and he wrapped himself in a towel. His clothes were missing from the floor, which caused a slight panic, so he grabbed the nearest robe and shrugged it on as he dried out his mohawk.

The laughing and giggling got louder when he stuck his head out from the bathroom. "Oi! Price!" He hissed down the hall, and the laughter disappeared.

Three little heads poked out from behind the corner. They appeared to be young boys, the oldest no more than 8.

The taller one, also presumably the oldest, had short cropped dark hair and bright eyes full of mischief. The one in the middle had fluffy light brown hair, and kinder green eyes. And the youngest one, still enough of a baby face, he appeared to be around five, unable to conceal a wide smile on his face. He was blond with brown eyes that were very hidden in his smile.

"Ye lot! Gimme mah stuff, ye little gremlins!" He hissed, and one by one, the disappeared, running down the hall.

Now usually, it's frowned upon to chase after children in a robe, and really, this felt like a movie locker room situation, where the bullies took his clothes while he was in the showers- lord. He was being bullied by children.

The children were bolting towards the kitchen, a separate garment in each of their hands.

"Git back here-!" He growled at them, slipping on the carpet, before grabbing the corner of the hall and launching himself to try and catch them, and they turned, and-

The kitchen was dead silent, all four adults, and three children staring at him, dressed in only a robe.

"Boys!" Price said firmly, and the children froze, turning to stare at him. "We've talked about this!"

Meanwhile, Alejandro was trying to hide a laugh behind his hand, and failing, horribly. Soap's face was burning as he crossed his arms over himself.

Price stood and the kids bolted, scattering throughout the house. "Nik-! They'll listen to you!"

"You know they will not, мое солнышко." Nik laughed. "Soap, come with me, brother, I'll give you some of John's things."

This was mortifying. Now back in the kitchen, and much more appropriately dressed, he was now avoiding eye contact with the three boys that were still taunting him, just to a much lesser degree.

"Alejandro, where did Rodolfo and Price go?" He asked, over the sizzling of something good on the stove. In their absence, Nik had invited them to stay for dinner, the least he could do when one of his ranch hands got speared by a reindeer.

He learned that the ranch hands called themselves Vaqueros, or Cowboys, which he thought was fitting. They were around for the winters, but went back to a town called Los Almas in the warmer months where they were dearly missed, but they had duty to that town, and everyone understood the call. They were very nice, and the whole place was very homey, something he'd missed in the military.

The boys, he'd learned, were three of the fosters. Their names went from oldest to youngest, Keegan, the tall one who had orchestrated the plan to steal his clothes, then David, who was more shy, but very headstrong (and the one who Kickstart the plan), and finally Logan, the youngest, who was David's biological brother, who gave them away.

They'd had Keegan longest, around three years, and the other two they'd fostered after their father went missing in action. But they were practically inseparable since they had met, which warmed his heart some. He missed his sisters.

"They went out to the barn to check on the little one." Alejandro supplied. "Rudy is.... well, he's usually the vet, but he may be, er, out of commission for a little bit."

"Mandated leave?" Soap wiggled his eyebrows at him and Alejandro rolled his eyes.

"Permiso obligatorio, tu pendejo!" He laughed, waving him off.

There was some commotion towards the front door, and Nik straightened, pulling something out of the oven. "Must be them. Back just in time!" He said happily, and Soap slid out of his seat.

"'M gonnae go see if the bairn's doin' okay!" He said excitedly, before darting out towards the front door.

Fidgeting with the cuff of Price's sweater that he now wore (it was so comfy), he started speaking even before he turned the corner. "Hope the wee one's doin' okay, Price! Ah was gonna ask if ah could come ta check on 'er, but-"

Suddenly he ran into something very firm, and very unmoving, and for half a second he feared he walked into a wall. He took a step back, apologizing, before looking up.

And stared directly into the wide, honey-colored eyes of the stranger he met at the store.

The stranger he now knew as Simon Riley.

Taglist(open): @neonanarchystudios @rai-to209

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[themultifandomgal]

Finn Shelby- Sweet Treats

I walk into the Garrison meeting my boyfriend, Finn and our friend Isaiah, who are both sat at a table in the corner of the room. I walk over to them holding a box of cakes

"Evenin YN" Isaiah nods towards me

"Good evening boys" I kiss Finn on the cheek and sit down next to him

"Where 'ave you been all day?" Isaiah laughs "not warming someone else's bed up 'ave ya?"

"No obvious not. I've been at mum and dads shop if either of you bothered come and look. Not sure if you deserve these" I open the box lid up

"This is why your my best friend" Isaiahs eyes widen as he goes to take a cake

"Ah ah ah not so fast" I bat his hand away "they aren't just for you two. They are for everyone, your brothers included Finn"

"They're in their room"

"We'll come on then" I make my way over to the private room and open up the door

"Ah YN, what've you got for us today?" Arthur shouts holding on to his whiskey

"We had extra cakes left over so I've brought you all some"

"Made by you I hope" John raises his brow looking at me

"Of course" I place the cake box down and the Shelbys/Grays all take one as well as Isaiah.

Later that evening Finn walks me home

"You know I don't think I've ever had cake as good as you make it. Even Aunt Poll, she bloody burns everything"

"Hey she's not that bad, but thank you Finn. I enjoyed making cakes and biscuits. I want my kids to have a childhood like mine where we bake in the kitchen and then go outside and play in the mud while we wait for every thing to cool"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Do you think you could teach me how to bake?"

"Of course!" I say with a wide smile "I'm not helping at the shop tomorrow if you want to come over?"

"Will your parents be ok with that?" Finn asks me with concerns as we arrive at my house

"Yes, don't worry. Mum and dad said they are fine with you coming over as long as we're downstairs"

"Ok. I'll see you tomorrow then" Finn kisses my check then walks away as I open up up my door.

The next day my parents leave the house to go and open up our bakery and not long later Finn shows up and we start weighing out ingredients

"Now you need to add the eggs" I tell Finn who picks them up and goes to crack them on the side of the bowel "wait actually crack them in here" I put a spare bowel in front of Finn "just in case of egg shells"

"Do you not trust me?" Finn raises his eyebrows at me

"Honestly no. Now come on. We need three eggs, chop chop"

"Your bossy when your in the kitchen" Finn chuckles

"You want to make a cake or not?" I place my hands on my hips

"Ok ok I get it" Finn attempts to crack an egg but it ends up going everywhere

"Good job I put a separate bowel down wasn't it?" I smile at Finn "watch and learn my love" I take the eggs from Finn and crack them in the bowel with ease "ok you can stir, but..." I'm not able to tell him to be careful because flour ends up all over the both of us "go slowly"

"Never heard you say that before" I give Finn an annoyed look "oh come on YN. It's me, did you really think that teaching me to make a cake would be smooth sailing?"

"No I guess not" I begin to smile

"I think we should both go up and take a bath aye?" Finn moves closer to me with a smirk

"Hmmm you'd like that wouldn't you" I lean up to kiss him but then pull away looking at his shocked face "you can clean up down here while I take a bath" I kiss his cheek and make my way upstairs.

Weirdly Finn never comes upstairs, and it's quiet. So after half an hour or so I get out of the bath and get changed. I make my way downstairs and that's when I can smell burning

"Oh my goodness Finn what are you doing?" I shout now seeing him pull something smoking out of the oven

"I tried making a cake, but it didn't work" I smile walking over to Finn "I'm not good at this and what you said yesterday, I want our children growing up baking. I'd like to be apart of that" Finn actually looks quite sad

"Hey, it's ok. You know that first time I tried making a cake on my own I dropped the eggs on the floor then slipped on them. You'll learn, so will our children... our children. I like the sound of that"

"So do I" Finn wraps me up in his arms and kisses my lips with so much love.

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

How did our meeting with them go?

Like our first time interacting with these funnybone boys

~♥️ anon

Well

Barry's the one who sells you your little fixer-uper of a cabin next to the spooky mansion on the hill. He kept saying shit like "Yeah, ever since the last tenants murdered the guy in that mansion and fled no one's wanted to buy it" He gives you a discount seeing how it's tied to a crime and needs quite a bit of elbow grease but you're sure you can make it a home

Joseph came as part of the deal with the house. No you don't get to keep him, unfortunately, but he helps you fix the place up and even offers you his couch if you ever need it. He doesn't talk, keeping a little not pad on him since he hasn't fully grasped sign yet. He's learned how to spell and write pretty fast from working in the post office

You meet Nick and Rory while getting some groceries, sure you could get bread from Barry's general store but the bakery smells so good you just have to see what they've got. Rory's a bit cold and grumpy when you first meet him but he's all smiles when talking to Nick, maybe he just needs to know you first? And Nick is very polite, walking you through the options of what they sell and totally not blushing when your fingers brush as he hands you your bread

You also meet Jack in the bakery. He offers to show you around town when you have a spare minute, it's not very big so it won't take too long. Once you take him up on the offer he's very helpful, pointing the few shops in town, telling you what you'll have to travel to get, and where everyone lives. The whole town is basically one big neighborhood so he doesn't really see it as odd. He also points out his and Rory's house, telling you you're welcome any time

While you're on your tour you run into Bo, literally. He's going so fast neither of you have time to react. When you shake off the panic you both realize you're lying on top of him and his tail starts to wag. Jack helps you up and Bo apologizes for bumping into you, but also treats you like you two are now best friends calling you his "bump buddy" and asking if you want to play any games with him

After such a long day you'd think you'd be able to sleep but alas,. Sleeping in a new bed is always hard but sleeping in a new house is just not happening tonight. You decide to sit on the porch to try and star gaze yourself into a coma when you see Ian. He has to walk past your cabin to get to the mansion and takes the time to introduce himself. Once he learns your plight he offers to take you with him, saying that the owners of the mansion don't sleep during the night either

Elias and Shaun are beaming at seeing a new face and Moonpie takes to you just as quick. The others in town know of them but with conflicting schedules they don't get too many visitors. Elias rushes off to the kitchen to make you some tea while Shaun takes you to their library to sit and talk. He says that they spend more time in here than in the actual sitting room. After Elias comes back with the tea Ian starts reading and acting out one of the books from the shelf

You're not sure when you fell asleep but you do know that you wake up in a very soft bed in a room that looks like it would fit right in with the rest of the mansion you fell asleep in. Elias comes in to check on you and tells you he couldn't just leave you on the couch! After leaving you only have a moment in your own home before there's a knock on the door. Jean introduces himself with a plate of cookies he clearly got from the bakery and a little bow. He's very princely about the whole thing, saying you shouldn't have to live in such filth while you fix the place up and offers to let you stay with him. He has a full guest room all made up for you if you'd ever like it

Once Joseph swings by to help with the house he also gives you your first letter! It's from a guy named Taylor, apperntly he lives in town and wants to try putting himself out there a bit. Not out there enough to come out of his house but it's a start. You two become the closest pen pals in history as you write back and forth nearly everyday. When you actually meet him he's got some big wet cat energy but he manages to hold conversation well enough

[lovingwanda]

MAGGIE NELSON | STAN LEE PRESENTS: MOSAIC (2007)

˚ ₊ ♡ ‧ ₊ girlfriend!maggie — headcanons x gn!reader. reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚ ₊ ♡ ‧ ₊

Born in the year of 1990, Maggie Nelson, an aspiring teenage actress who dreams of making it into Broadway, gains incredible chameleon like powers after she is caught between an ancient Rune stone and a electrical storm accident.

Our heroine maggie's full name is margaret nelson. She's a beautiful seventeen year old student attending the highschool of dramatic arts in New York City. She is an adventurous and extremely happy spirited girl who's confident that she can do and accomplish anything. She's upbeat, quick witted, and high spirited but well grounded when dealing with important issues.

( p.s you can watch the full movie here via youtube but there are flashing lights involved, if you'd prefer to avoid that, check out this film review. )

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who always knew you had a crush on her long before the moment you worked up the nerve ask about being study buddies and started exchanging and comparing notes for an upcoming test of Shakespeare's classics like "Romeo and Juliet" and "Hamlet" and decided to make the move to ask you out during another lunch study in the library.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who is more than happy to spare some extra time on line rehearsals for those big and upcoming performances you've had your heart set on acting in despite the clear stage fight. She even gives you kisses of good luck for a better boost but makes sure that you know where you need to improve on while welcoming the fun of improv.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who wants the both of you to step out of your comfort zones when it comes to personal fears and social gatherings together but knows not to push things when it comes to you and doesn't mind being patient because she treasures you to the word and back.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who is your biggest hype girl with all of her extroverted and contagiously giddy energy, even when your not the brightest person in the room. She wants to find any way to see that precious smile of yours but knows how to give you the well needed comfort when the moment calls for it.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who treats you out to your favorite bakery and coffee shop in town for the weekend mornings despite the fact that she's been expanding her cuisine palette and improving on her cooking skills but is holding out for either your one year anniversary as a couple or your birthday.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who is adamant about you getting your bed rest when your sick and in no condition to be attending school. She appreciates the tenacity but your sick butt is staying in bed and that's final. Leave it to her to whip you up a warm meal and to put on some romantic comedy produced films from Hallmark or rent a few movies from block buster so that she can snuggle up close with you under the warmth of a blanket with a trusty ice pack for your fever.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who explicitly claims to not be the Regina George type and wouldn't get jealous easily over small things or even petty but you see it despite the denial. Despite maggie's emotional and mental maturity is compared to most teenagers, she's still just a teenager and there's no exception to jealousy, especially when it comes to you.

↳ girlfriend!maggie — who ultimately reveals she has superpowers and opens up about this whole world saving adventure she went on in only three days after delivering that bravado of a performance on Friday before returning to school and getting that A+ on Hamlet that Tuesday morning. You are the only one she can really trust right now since her father, the infamous interpol agent Nathan Nelson, would never be able to look at his own daughter the same way ever again -- at least that what she fears. You promise to keep her secret and she knows you mean it.

[goldemas1244]

Kastiya Mas Dating Headcanons!

(Note: Separate list from the initial headcanons post! He's got such a way to date I love him so much! @kikiwooo I love the attention you've given him so HAVE AT YOU!!!)

He's slightly problematic. I mean his parents and friends are all blown up so really he's got a lot of trust and attachment isues. Do take note.

Dating KM is a fun adventure no matter where he takes you! From kayaking to dinners, he has an extensive bucket list of places to go and you'll both love it!

If it's a more relaxed date he'll wear something formal. He likes dress-like outfits a lot. His favourite restaurants are shellout restaurants. The lobster is a must-have. He'll take you out to a restaurant on your first date, classic.

If it's an adventurous date he'll look like his normal nude self. He'll bring a fanny pack with him though. You can never go wrong with a few spare energy bars! He'll start out with the more chill ones of course, like walks in the park.

If he doesn't know where to go he'll ask you. Just make sure to tell him two days in advance, he has a very horrid sense of time.

If you want to Netflix and Chill well then that's all the more better! He gets an excuse to stay at home and show you the ungodly amount of media he's pirated. He's gonna put on the Pirates of the Carribean movies at least once.

He likes movies with strong orchestral soundtracks, but he's not against rom-coms. He has a collection of CDs with old-timey movies in them and he soaks them all up like a sponge. His favourite is My Fair Lady.

When he watches with you expect a lot of physical contact. He'll rest on your shoulder, hold your hand, snuggle up close to you, steal your nachos (he's allergic to popcorn), maybe even sleep on you if he's tired. He likes it when you wear cologne too.

When you take it to the bed, the first nights are always nice. Cute hugs and snuggles, spooning, AC on and blankets thick. He relishes in the warmth. He's a bit of a night owl though so you really should help him sleep earlier. He'll sleep with his back towards you before he gets more comfy and uses you as a stinky pillow instead.

Mating session! He's very inexperienced so do start out slow. He likes knowing he can trust you with the next step. Aftercare is always on his budget and he'll spare no expense to make sure you feel comfortable enough for bed.

But of course as time passes on things can get a little rougher. When he lets you take full control that's how you know you've truly sealed the deal. There is no way out except either a permanent relationship or first-degree murder. No going back now, he's letting you raw him. That's a privilege right there.

Bath time is usually solo. But the more comfortable he gets with you the more he'll let you get closer. Until eventually of course he'll stop using the shower curtains and shooing you out, altogether ending up sharing the same shower AND towel.

He likes to go out shopping too, but he usually window-shops. No, what I'm saying is, take him to a bakery. It's cheaper than a new shirt AND the bread's gone in three days or less. Make sure your wallet's loaded, he's a beast when it comes to chocolate buns.

Sick days are best spent alone. It's no good if both of you get sick. Screentime is limited. You'll have to help him manage his Twitch content. But if YOU'RE sick he'll spare no potato. He'll force feed you bread and chicken soup until you get better.

Gaming dates are always fun. You get to game together and boost both your accounts! He's not the swear-y type of person though and mostly watches his language on-cam.

He likes to give and receive trinkets. Little keychains, fancy lighters, you name it he'll buy it. He'll remember the most minute detail you've mentioned and then buy you it on your birthday.

Birthdays! Pizza party instead of cake, he hates icing. He likes being fed though so treat him like a prince.

If it's been a sad day make sure to be there for him. He doesn't want advice. He just wants to know you're there for him. And he'll treat you the same way. It'll take him a while to open up to you but once the tears start to flow it means he's begging you, praying you're not like the others. You've also got to be thick-skinned though. He's very violent when he's breaking down.

Your first kiss with him is also his first kiss. He loves it when your two lips meet. He'll want another one after the first one. And another one. And another one. And so on and so on. Until there's nothing left but kisses all over, may or may not escalate.

As a Kastiyan, his moral code is a... tad skewed. Meaning if you dare enrage him he will not hesitate to shut you down no matter how much he really truly loves you. So unless you're very good at fighting and calming him down, consider yourself dead. He'll stay indoors for a grieving period of about three months. You'll stay seven feet under for the rest of your life.

He doesn't understand social cues all that much so you should help him. He can act a bit childish at times so be patient with him. Don't tease him if he makes a mistake, he's got a sensitive heart.

He likes anybody really but he's more oriented towards men. He finds a strange sense of comfort in their tummies.

He has a tendency to bite. You. No chew toy can suffice the need to severely pin you down and rip off chunks of your flesh. It's a repressed instinct. So just... let him nom on you cutely. He won't go that rough usually. Usually.

He owns a pat cat who can run on two legs. No his house isn't haunted BUT IT SURE DOES FUCKIN FELINE IT. (Get it? Feline? Feel like? Wordplay? No okay I'll see myself out-)

If he suddenly asks you if you love him, that means he's starting to feel down. Hold him by the chin, look into his eyes, say clearly that you love him, and give him a hug. And maybe opt to book a psychiatric appointment for him.

He's terrified of losing you. So within a year or two of you two dating, he'll pull the ring on you. If you're not ready, he'll try next month. And so on and so on. He's lost so many people dear to him, so you'd better not be his latest (and probably last; who knows what he'll do to himself if he loses you...).

[agentmarcuspike]

hey ziggy! i really really dont want to clog your inbox with too many headcanons sent all at once but it’s my birthdayyyyyy (so i’m big in my marcus pike aka perfect boyfriend ever feels)

so i don’t know how you feel about your birthday but to me, it has always been that one cheerful, “it’s your day, let’s celebrate you” kind of day. i’ll be honest, it’s a lot more complicated as i live alone, far from my family and friends and i don’t have the opportunity to celebrate anymore.

either way, marcus would respect however you feel about it. if you tell him your birthday is something you don’t like celebrating for xyz reason, he’ll respect it 100%. he’ll make sure to organize a quiet, chill evening and maybe a small gift if he’s sure it’s not going to bother or upset you.

however if you enjoy your birthday, this little sweetheart will go all out. cute breakfast in bed, probably a huge bouquet of flowers and a sweet note he leaves in your bag. and that’s just the beginning of the festivities. he has a lot of work but he’ll do his best to leave early and get the evening ready. he will take you to that fancy restaurant you’ve been wanting to go to (he made reservations weeks in advance just to be sure), bring all your friends and family for a party later, order your favorite cake from your favorite bakery and of course, of course he’ll have the perfect gift for you. you cannot try and convince me that marcus isn’t the most amazing gift giver in the entire world! that man listens to every single word you say and even the stuff you don’t mention, he’ll notice (he’s an fbi agent ffs) so he will find the gift and if you’re half as emotional as me, make you sob like a baby which means it’s a mission accomplished (not that he wants to make you cry but the bastard always does). also who says party, says dancing and he will 100% dance the night away with you.

you’ll be glad to finish the night just with him though, thanking him over and over for everything he’s done and i feel like he always keeps a very sentimental gift just for the two of you? something small (or not lol) and meaningful that he wants you to have but doesn’t feel like sharing with everyone else.

all in all, this man spends every waking moment celebrating you but your birthday is just the perfect occasion to share that happiness with the rest <3

i really hope you’re doing great and life’s treating you well (i also kick butts in my spare time if you ever need it) 🫶

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY !!! 💕🤍💐❕🌷

i hope you had a great day, with cake, even if no marcus, or your closest ones, was around. if he were, he would be doing exactly what you describe. he’d know what you want and what you need, and he’d deliver.

i’m pretty lukewarm on birthdays, they’ve been mostly disappointing throughout my life tbh, so having someone like agent pike around for the day sounds perfect…

you never clog my inbox and i LOVE these messages so much, so don’t you worry <3

hugs and kisses from me and our favorite romantic,

[fanficimagery]

I Now Pronounce You..

You and Daryl have been together for years, but no one really knows it because of how private the two of you are. But when you get to the Commonwealth and the women can't stop staring, you and Daryl make things official.

Words: 2.2K Author's Note: Daryl's definitely OOC in this, but I hope you still enjoy the fluff. Or whatever this turns out to be lol.

Before the world had fallen, you and Daryl Dixon would never have spared each other a second look. But after, you couldn't keep your eye from wandering to the hunter every now and then. He was rugged and brash and everything you did not like in a man. At least not until little Sophia went missing and you got to see a whole 'nother side to him that you found yourself attracted to.

Things between you and Daryl started to change when you took shelter at the prison, and then escalated rather quickly after your escape from Terminus. You talked more, you hung out more, and you checked on each other so often that the rest of the group started to get an inkling that there was something there between the two of you. No one pressed you for information about you and Daryl besides Maggie and Glenn, but the two of them were easily ignored and eventually gave up.

Rick had caught an affectionate moment maybe once or twice, but thankfully he wasn't quite the gossip and never said a word. And over the years, throughout the drama and trauma, you always had Daryl. So when Alexandria was struggling and a group that called themselves the CMR came to offer a new place to settle and grow, it was no question for Daryl to agree to go since you and he were looking after both Judith and RJ.

Life in the Commonwealth was exactly like life pre-apocalypse and it took about a week to adjust to normal living again. Daryl was given a job as a soldier, Judith and RJ were enrolled into school, and you were given a job inside a bakery. The Commonwealth seemed a little too good to be true, but you and Daryl needed to provide a decent life for the kids so you stopped looking for trouble.

Trouble, however, seemed to find you. Although this trouble wasn't the type of trouble either of you were expecting. Trouble came in the form of middle-aged women inside the new community who couldn't help but appreciate Daryl.

Daryl walks into the apartment one evening, several containers of tupperware under his arm. RJ and Judith are busy drawing, so you're the first one to greet him.

"Was the kitchen staff being generous today or are your admirers at it again?"

He grunts. "When has the kitchen staff ever been generous?"

You tense in annoyance, jealousy flaring right away. "Well the kids and I already ate. Eat your share and then put the rest in the refrigerator. I'm gonna get the kids to shower before putting them to bed."

Daryl doesn't say anything, but he does head to the small kitchen table to start eating. You do as you said, getting the kids to clean up their room before jumping into the shower one right after the other. You clean up the living room as well, keeping your gaze away from where Daryl's sitting and not uttering a word. But then when it's your turn in the shower, your shoulders droop and you feel stupid.

You have no reason to feel jealous, especially after all the reassurances Daryl has given you that you're it for him, and you know that he did not deserve the brief sting of your attitude earlier. So after finishing up your shower and heading out into your bedroom, you hesitate by the door at the sight of Daryl sitting on the edge of your bed.

He stares at you, you stare at him, and then your feet are carrying you towards him. You step in between his knees, hands delving into his hair at the back of his head as his arms wrap around your waist. "I'm sorry," you tell him.

Daryl glances up at you, lips twitching. "I know."

"I'm really trying to not be jealous, but these bitches are making it hard." His shoulders shake with quiet laughter and you whine, nails scratching at his scalp. "I mean, we share an apartment for fuck's sake. A two bedroom apartment with two kids. What do they think you and I are doin' in here?"

"I dunno, but I think I might have a way to make them back off."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Well the people here are used to livin' life as it was before the fall."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well maybe we should follow a rule from before and make it known that m'not available. For good."

It takes a hot second for his meaning to kick in and when it does, your eyes widen. And then you frown as your hands slide out of his hair to settle on his shoulders. "Are you- are you talkin' 'bout marriage?" He shrugs and you huff a laugh of disbelief. "You wanna get married?"

"Sure."

"Daryl, you've never been one to care for such labels. Why now?"

"Because I still remember that day you saw Maggie wearin' a weddin' band and how excited you were. I remember all the squealin' and gossipin', and how you admitted you still wanted that happily ever after." He pauses to clear his throat, the apples of cheeks tinting red. "I can give you an ever after, probably not as happy as it could have been, but it'd be me and you with weddin' bands to prove we belong to each other."

Your vision goes blurry with unshed tears, at how much you really want what he's sayin' even though you didn't know it until now, and you sniffle. "You would do that? All because I can't control these stupid bouts of jealousy?"

"S'not just because of that, but if it helps, it helps." The tears fall and Daryl's quick to wipe them away, smiling softly at you. "What do 'ya say? Wanna elope?"

You wetly chuckle, nodding. "Hell yes."

As it turns out, Daryl had commissioned the wedding bands a while back at Hilltop. The bands were simple, made of some dark metal and nothing else, but that was all you needed. Well that and for the two of you to say I do down at the courthouse. But as luck would have it, the two of you don't get to enjoy being married for long. The Commonwealth ends up being its own undoing and half the community rose up to fight the other half. Apparently the people of the Commonwealth weren't as happy-go-lucky as they seemed, and they fought for equality like the higher-ups of the Commonwealth had first promised them.

There was some comfort and new friends you had found within the Commonwealth, but when it came down to moving back to Alexandria, you were more than ready to reunite with old friends who had rebuilt your old community with the tools and supplies given by the Commonwealth months ago. Some who had left Alexandria and/or Hilltop had met someone in the Commonwealth, and you weren't surprised to see Yumiko's brother, Princess, Mercer, and Stephanie joining you for the trip back to Alexandria.

Maggie and the others who had stayed behind welcomed all of you back, eyeing the newcomers suspiciously until you, Daryl, Rosita, Yumiko and Eugene vouched for them. And in celebration of being home with no threats on the horizon, Yumiko's brother decided to cook dinner for the entire community a couple of weeks after everyone settles in. You and Carol help him, and a handful of others decide to line the street with tables and chairs.

It's during dinner, when everyone's winding down from the good food and laughter with a glass of wine, that Carol notices your wedding band.

She chokes on her wine, garnering the attention of everyone closest to you, and she points at your hand that's gently holding onto a wine glass. "What is that?"

Everyone glances at you- at the hand Carol is pointing at- and you grin as you lift the glass to your lips. "What's what?" You ask before taking a sip.

Daryl snorts and raises his hand to brush aside the hair from his eyes, only for Maggie to gasp and point at his hand as well. "Daryl has one too!"

All is quiet until Princess laughs. "Dudes, no way! You're married?!" Everyone seems to hold their breath as you glance at Daryl, smirking. "When did this happen? And why wasn't I invited? Aw man, that's not cool."

Daryl chuckles at Princess' rambling and you shrug. "Sorry."

Mercer, who'd been frowning, finally speaks up. "I don't believe it." All eyes turn to the usually stoic man as he shakes his head. "I trained Dixon for weeks and not once did he mention having a girl back at his apartment. And the times I spotted you speaking to each other in the streets, you didn't even make it seem like there was a thing going on between you two."

Daryl shrugs. "We're private people."

"Very private," Rosita muses, bouncing Coco on her knee as she smiles at you. "They've been a thing for years, but not once did we ever see anything affectionate between the two. The wedding bands are a complete shock, even to us who've known them for years."

"A happy shock, I hope," you say.

"Of course. Very," Maggie is quick to assure you.

"Congratulations!" You glance down the table towards the voice, catching Stephanie's smiling expression.

"Thank you, Stephanie."

And then one by one, everyone starts giving their congratulations and telling you it's about damn time. Then when the commotion starts to dwindle, Carol's eyes sparkle as she asks, "So what brought this on? For as long as I've known you two, you never cared much for labels. Everyone just kind of knew you belonged to each other and were off limits."

Daryl snorts and you roll your eyes. "Well apparently the women of the Commonwealth didn't get that memo."

Princess perks up in her seat. "I knew it! I knew those ladies were hittin' on you, man."

Mercer chuckles. "It was the uniform, wasn't it?"

"I don't know, man. They just kept feedin' me and battin' their eyelashes."

"Well at least you got food out of it," Maggie says, trying to look on the bright side when she sees you pouting.

"Yeah, but I felt so dirty eatin' those casseroles."

Everyone laughs, and then a couple of them coo when Daryl slides his arm behind your shoulders for you to lean into him. You settle against him, sighing in contentment as the two of you lay your relationship on the line for all to see.

You all stay up a little bit longer, everyone then cleaning up their trash and gathering dishes so all any of you have to do the following day is put away tables and chairs. Then as you and Daryl are walking down the street, hand in hand, you can't help but swing your hands a little more than necessary as you practically bounce on your toes.

You smile and wave at the other community members going home, glancing at Daryl's stoic expression from the corner of your eye. Your amusement falters as you tone down your enthusiasm.

"Can I ask you a serious question?" You ask out of the blue.

"'Course."

"Do you regret tying the knot with me?"

Daryl's step falters before he stops, turning to look at you. "What? Of course not. Why would you even-"

"M'sorry." You wince, letting him tug you so you're standing directly in front of him, both his hands holding yours. "I don't know why my insecurities kicked in again, but you just- you seemed kind of annoyed just a moment ago. Maybe everyone knowin' wasn't such a good idea after all."

"Nah. Don't even think like that," he says. He squeezes your hands in reassurance. "Marryin' you, it's been the best decision I ever made. Sometimes I wake up next to 'ya and wonder how the hell I ended up so lucky."

You sniffle. "Really?"

He lets go of your hands so he can reach up to gently cradle your face. "When I said I do I meant it for as long as you and I are breathin'. And I'm fine with everyone knowin'. Doesn't bother me one bit."

"Good. Because I'm pretty sure all the women are gonna corner me tomorrow and want all the details."

"As long as you don't give them too many details."

You grin, pushing up onto the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Scared I'm gonna tell them about what goes on between the sheets?"

"Yeah. I know you, YN. You'll cave and tell 'em everythin' they wanna know."

"Yeah. I probably would," you muse. As Daryl leans his head down to rest his forehead against yours, you say, "Fine. I promise to not give them any details about what goes on in the bedroom."

"Good."

"Unless they liquor me up, then all bets are off."

He sighs. "You're a menace."

Daryl kisses you one last time before leaning back and then catching you in a loose headlock. You laugh, swatting at his sides and back as he starts walking with you once more, taking you home and hoping the other women don't ask questions that are too personal in the upcoming days.